Gavin Luper
22nd July 2003, 02:24 AM
Here's something completely new.
Hope you like it!
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Chapter I – Windswept.
It’s funny how things work out sometimes. Of course I mean funny as in strange and coincidental, not like hardy hardy ha, because what happened to me – to us – was hardly humorous. To me anyway. Maybe some people sat back sometimes and laughed at the whole thing, but I definitely didn’t; I don’t see how I ever could. I mean, sometimes Bryan tries to make a joke about it and we’ll smile a bit, but that’s about all. I don’t think our heart is ever in it, or his.
Everything happened kind of like an explosion; one minute everything was intact, stable, perfect, and then it exploded; things were destroyed, shattered, thrown everywhere, and in the middle was me. Well, that’s how I saw it at the time. It always seems that it’s always me who gets into some problem of some sort. If anyone’s in trouble, it’ll be Dane. Me, me, always me. I used to think everything centred around me, but since that day in Glasgow, I’ve come to realise that just about everyone thinks that about themselves, as though the universe revolves around them.
Well, guess what? Everyone is wrong.
The explosion wasn’t one that I could have seen coming, not that you can normally predict them anyway. I think it really hit me so hard because I was used to doing the same thing, everyday.
So this kind of popped up; it seemed so bizarre at first that I almost laughed. Then I almost vomited. I don’t remember thinking anything, just staring at her in shock. I didn’t even know her, but she had approached me in the middle of the shopping centre and kind of blurted it all in my face at once. I was in a little café that I went to a lot, they didn’t do much but make coffees and teas and a few cakes, but it was enough to keep me going back. I remember the sound of the cappuccino machine gurgling that day, because at the same time I felt a gurgling in my throat.
She looked at me – no, looked through me – without a trace of sympathy or empathy or anything-else-pathy. I didn’t even know her name at that stage. She blinked her bright cerulean eyes; it was typical really, she had platinum blonde hair, tied back in a neat ponytail, and blue eyes – the average little Anglo, I spose. Her eyes actually had a kind of soft watery look about them; they would have sparkled with innocence if it weren’t for her eyebrows. They weren’t bushy, but they curved in a funny way that made her appear as though she was on the lookout for something or someone.
When she asked – more like ordered – I shook my head, feebly at first, then vigourously. I felt like a tidal wave had just slapped into me at full force, and was now receding very slowly back into the ocean. I thought I’d had her sussed out; she seemed like a foreign businesswoman, one of those modernised women, who put their career as first priority, followed by pride and then they squeeze in time for friends. After she said that, a thousand questions began burning in my brain. Who was this woman? Why had she asked such a huge question? What gave her the right to do so? How did she know who I was – how had she tracked me down, so far from home?
“I don’t understand,” I managed to say, my voice coming out a lot steadier than I thought it would have. That calmed me a bit. I started exercising more control over my vocal cords anyway.
“No, you understood what I said perfectly well,” she said in a firm voice that sounded almost too forceful. She only looked a few years older than me, yet she seemed to be incredibly mature. “And you’ll agree, Mr Orion, that you have no choice.”
I was now thankful that my coffee hadn’t been delivered yet, because my stomach was an out-of-control washing machine. Without the clothes or detergent. She was looking at me still, scrutinisingly, as though she had never seen another human being before, and her gaze held the same lack of emotion as before. Her clean fingernails were drumming on the glass table rhythmically, impatiently.
I exploded at that point. “I can’t do that! Who are you anyway? Why have you just come up to me like this? I don’t even know you!” And suddenly huge doubts began popping into my mind. Who was she really? Could I trust her, or was she one of those she had just warned me about? I instantly imagined that she had a gun hidden in her bag.
A woman with the tallest mop of hair in the world looked inquisitively at me from another table. She didn’t even try to make it like she wasn’t looking, leaning over rudely. “Nice beehive,” I scowled at her, pointing to my head. She looked highly offended and turned away, patting the monstrosity delicately.
The blonde woman at the table with me was ignoring this; she seemed to be thinking it over very slowly. Her mouth curved almost as dangerously as her eyebrows. I almost shrank back. All this woman seemed to do was LOOK at things. Finally, she spoke, very smoothly. “I realise that this is really sudden for you,” she said, sounding as though she really didn’t care. “Perhaps it would be easier if we went for a more private drive in my car?”
“Oh sure,” I spat angrily. “Have you got your gun loaded? Chloroform all ready to go?”
A bemused look came onto her face, but she refused to speak, so I refused to look at her anymore. I decided to ignore her completely; I picked up the paper that I had been reading before she burst into the café and began trying to look interested. I wasn’t, of course, who could be after what she’d said? I was really quite afraid of her now, just because of the kind of thoughts she had injected into my mind only a few minutes ago. It was a strange rush, though, what she asked me to do. The tiniest part of my brain wanted to find out more. The majority wanted to run, escape, mingle with the Glaswegian shoppers like before, just get away from this woman.
It occurred to me slowly that I couldn’t do that, even though I did want to. This wasn’t really the kind of situation you walked away from, but I had no idea of how to approach it. It then occurred to me that this woman was not just an average, neutral person who had bumped into me by accident at the shops; she had tracked me down from the other side of the world. Either she had good intent or bad.
“My name is Anna,” she said abruptly, before I had even asked. “I realise I’ve probably confused you. I apologise. Maybe it would be best if I briefed you ASAP.”
“Briefed me?” I gaped. What was this, a spy movie? No, it was nothing like a movie. In movies you know what’s going on; you have a camera to show you everything you need to know. Real life’s different. Then, maybe I’d stumbled into one of those stupid TV shows where they approach people in the middle of the street and put them in a ridiculous situation, then at the end tell them it’s a joke. I actually turned around and looked for cameras, but the café was fairly empty, excluding us and the beehive lady and her friend. “What are you, an FBI agent?” I spluttered at last, sarcasm dripping off my voice.
A huge smile filled her face, her cherry lips curving halfway up her cheeks as though her secret had finally been discovered. She didn’t need to respond.
“No way,” I breathed. Anna was a spy or something … well that did make things easier to bear. A little bit. But I still wondered where I fitted into the whole thing.
Anna was speaking almost in a whisper after that, so I really had to listen in. “Close enough,” she said at last. “I’m not with the FBI, I’m with Interpol, working in the Pacific.” It took a good few seconds for this to sink in, but when it did I had more questions than before. My fear had been obscured by excitement.
“So that’s why you asked me,” I said, my brain thawing out.
“Naturally, I’d have a reason. What, you thought some innocent stranger walked up to you and asked you that? Of course not, it’s police business.” She realised she had been speaking a bit loud, and the beehive lady seemed to be listening in again. Anna lowered her voice. “It still won’t slot into place really until I brief you.” She took out a badge and showed it to me, proving her identity as Anna French, Interpol officer. “Will you come with me now, to the Embassy?” she inquired, and I nodded.
“Which embassy?” I asked suddenly. I didn’t think Tropika had embassies anywhere, except maybe the US and Australia.
“Well, I was thinking the Australian Embassy,” said Anna. “The Oceania embassies aren’t widespread yet. Anyway, it’s just a safe place where we can talk.”
I surprised myself then, and her too, by the looks of it. “What about my apartment? It’s just down in Pollokshaws, we could be there in fifteen minutes if we took the train.”
Oddly enough, Anna nodded her head; in fact, she looked quite stimulated by that idea. We left the café without waiting for my coffee to arrive. Within five minutes we were on our way to the train station when Anna suddenly stopped at a parked car, a shiny silver Volkswagon. She unlocked it suddenly. “Get in.” she said, and I did. “It’ll be more private this way,” she added. “I can fill you in a bit more.” Of course, I thought. Anna wouldn’t have taken the train like me. As an interpol agent, she would have had access to any car she wanted.
We weaved through the streets patiently. My mind was not as numb now – the original bluntness of the question had worn off and I was confused as all hell. Anna was so serious, it was freaking me out. I was taking a step at a time. Step one – get Anna to fill me in at my apartment. Step two – well, find out what I myself was going to do.
Of course I had no idea then what was stepping into. I should have had, because of how strange the situation already was, but I just didn’t see anything coming after that. Maybe because I was thinking in steps.
We had just driven across the River Clyde when Anna turned into a side street. I asked her what she was doing – she said she just needed to do a quick check on something. So we wove through sidestreets for about five minutes, then Anna said: “We’re being followed.”
I looked at her in disbelief, then shock. As if. “Are you sure?”
“I just did three circuits of the suburb,” she said, and I realised what she had meant when she said she was ‘checking’ on something. Checking to confirm her suspicions. “That blue sedan is trailing us. DON’T TURN AROUND!” she yelled abruptly, as I began to. “We don’t want them to know anything. Look ahead at the road.”
For the second time in about half an hour I almost laughed at something not funny at all. This was just like a movie. I was petrified they were going to pull out guns and start shooting us any moment. The disturbing thing was, a tiny part of me wanted the action.
Anna kept driving, not even speeding up a bit. I supposed she wanted to act as if she hadn’t noticed anything about the car behind us. Her hands were shaking a bit, though; she was scared. Or just cold. It was a cold day, even by Glasgow standards.
We drove past an apartment block that looked familiar – we had passed it twice already. “Do you have a plan?” I asked Anna, looking at her deep cerulean eyes. I hoped to God that she did. I felt my stomach flop as she shook her head rigidly.
“Not really,” she muttered at last, staring straight ahead. I didn’t react – not out loud anyway. I sneaked a quick glance in the rear view mirror and saw the car trailing us. It wasn’t new but not old either; a middle-aged car. I wanted to get a closer look, but for some reason I felt that if I glanced in the mirror again they would see me and open fire.
Anna drove around a corner that looked quite familiar, and I could see the apartment block coming into view again much further up the street. “This is stupid,” said Anna quite suddenly, sounding on the verge of tears. Oh God, that’s all I need, for her to have a nervous breakdown. The car would veer off the road and crash into a pole, and if I miraculously managed to survive that I’d be gunned down by the people behind us.
“Stupid?” I repeated stupidly.
“Yes,” Anna moaned. “We’ve gone round this block almost five times now. They aren’t as thick as I am,” she said, sounding worn-out. She was the kind of person Melanie would say was ‘self-defeating’.
“So what now?” I said, annoyed at her. “We just drive around till they get bored and shoot us?”
“I don’t know,” she replied quickly. “They might not have guns. They might not even be our biggest enemy. But they probably do have guns, and they probably are our biggest enemy.” I was completely confused now. She paused. “I’d tell you who I think they are, but if you get caught by them, I don’t want you to be anything more than an innocent bystander. On the other hand …” she added suddenly, muttering very quietly to herself.
“Here’s what we’ll do,” Anna said abruptly. “Go into my bag.” She pointed to a sleek black bag at my feet, and I reached for it to follow her orders. “There’s a green notebook in there. And a silver tin. Put them in your backpack.”
I found the green notebook and the tin, then turned to get my backpack from the back seat. And then I saw the blue sedan, speeding up behind us as the road widened into dual-lanes. I saw the driver – a man – hunching over the wheel like he was playing some computer game. Except in this game there were no extra lives. If you crashed, you lost a lot more than points.
“The car’s coming up beside us,” I gasped at Anna. Her scarlet lips tightened and her eyes flickered with some crazy kind of power. I pulled my bag to the front and stared blankly ahead, breathing fast. Slowly my eyes focussed. We had sped up a lot and we were no longer going around that same block. In fact, we were on a road that I was quite sure led out of the city altogether. There were no dense apartment blocks now. There were even a couple of houses that resembled the ones back in Tropika.
“Listen carefully Dane,” said Anna, and I did. “When we get into the forest area north of town – if we make it that far – you’re going to jump from the car when I say to. If you can hide very quickly behind some trees, then you’ll be free. In a way,” she added with a flicker of concern in her eyes. “Now, these guys behind us should keep following the car, rather than going for you. The plan is to keep you safe. They’re going to lose one of us either way. And they hopefully won’t be expecting it.
“When the car is gone, you have to do what I say now. Go as deep into the forested area as you can. Go south for awhile – run the whole way – and then stop for the night somewhere safe. You can read my notebook then. That’s your briefing.” This barely sank in, but I got the gist of it. My knees were already wobbling, though, and adrenaline was pumping through my body.
“By the way,” said Anna. “I don’t think they have guns. They would have shot at us by now if they did. They probably have grenades or bombs instead.” I laughed loudly but realised, feeling sick, that she was being serious.
Very comforting. Thank you Anna.
Fifteen minutes later, my nerves were jangling worse than ever. The blue sedan was following us slowly and steadily now; it had not overtaken us yet. Maybe he was content to cruise behind us until we ran out of petrol. I shuddered at that thought – I could imagine the sinking feeling as the Volkswagon slowed down, then the engine spluttered out, then we were caught. Every few seconds after that I thought I could hear the engine failing. It never did, though.
I looked back at the car a couple of times, while Anna drove silently on. I realised already that we had made a major U-turn about ten minutes ago, around Carmunnock, and now we were approaching the Erskine Bridge. Anna had now told me she was planning to drive to the area around Loch Lomond, where I would leave the car, then she’d drive up north until she decided on a plan. She was considering either stopping at a northern town and losing herself in a crowd, or even curving back to Glasgow and try to trick them on a motorway exit. I think we both knew the first was the easiest.
We passed a nice urban area on the Firth of Clyde, which looked quite pleasant, compared to inner Glasgow. I was actually starting to relax a bit but the car went over a bump and I was jolted back to reality. By now I had started to get a bit unnerved by the car behind us; it was going slowly, but had a sense about it like if it wanted to, it would catch us. It reminded me of a peacock that had stalked me once in the maze at the wildlife park on Marino Island. It had appeared at every corner behind me in the little maze, stalking calmly and silently, as though it had all the time in the world, and strangely enough I actually got quite scared of it.
“Ready?” Anna’s voice sliced through my thoughts, and at once I felt my knees wobbling again. They were jelly. There was no other way to describe them.
We circled around a roundabout, and I saw trees on both sides of the road clustering in, shading me and Anna from the midday sun. Through the trees to the right I thought I saw water, but I didn’t get a good enough look to be sure.
Anna spoke some final words to me as I slipped my seatbelt off and hoisted the bag onto my back. “There’s a bend just up here. If I round it quickly enough, you might be able to conceal yourself before they see you. If they do see you, don’t worry, just keep running. Try to circle back towards Alexandria, then stop and read my notebook. If I don’t see you again, you’ll be able to work out what to do.”
“Just before I go,” I said rapidly, holding the doorhandle tightly. I knew I had to ask. There were some things that the notebook wouldn’t be able to answer.
“Yes?” Anna cried. The corner was approaching.
“Why did you ask me to kill them?” I demanded, suddenly feeling a huge burning anger inside me, that spilled over outside me as well. She glanced at me with those pale azure eyes, looking as though she was about to tell me, and it looked like she really wanted to. I felt a fire in my chest. She had asked me to do it less than an hour ago. I had to know why. But then;
“Goodbye,” said Anna bluntly, and the door swung open widely, revealing the bitumen road rushing past beneath.
Hope you like it!
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Chapter I – Windswept.
It’s funny how things work out sometimes. Of course I mean funny as in strange and coincidental, not like hardy hardy ha, because what happened to me – to us – was hardly humorous. To me anyway. Maybe some people sat back sometimes and laughed at the whole thing, but I definitely didn’t; I don’t see how I ever could. I mean, sometimes Bryan tries to make a joke about it and we’ll smile a bit, but that’s about all. I don’t think our heart is ever in it, or his.
Everything happened kind of like an explosion; one minute everything was intact, stable, perfect, and then it exploded; things were destroyed, shattered, thrown everywhere, and in the middle was me. Well, that’s how I saw it at the time. It always seems that it’s always me who gets into some problem of some sort. If anyone’s in trouble, it’ll be Dane. Me, me, always me. I used to think everything centred around me, but since that day in Glasgow, I’ve come to realise that just about everyone thinks that about themselves, as though the universe revolves around them.
Well, guess what? Everyone is wrong.
The explosion wasn’t one that I could have seen coming, not that you can normally predict them anyway. I think it really hit me so hard because I was used to doing the same thing, everyday.
So this kind of popped up; it seemed so bizarre at first that I almost laughed. Then I almost vomited. I don’t remember thinking anything, just staring at her in shock. I didn’t even know her, but she had approached me in the middle of the shopping centre and kind of blurted it all in my face at once. I was in a little café that I went to a lot, they didn’t do much but make coffees and teas and a few cakes, but it was enough to keep me going back. I remember the sound of the cappuccino machine gurgling that day, because at the same time I felt a gurgling in my throat.
She looked at me – no, looked through me – without a trace of sympathy or empathy or anything-else-pathy. I didn’t even know her name at that stage. She blinked her bright cerulean eyes; it was typical really, she had platinum blonde hair, tied back in a neat ponytail, and blue eyes – the average little Anglo, I spose. Her eyes actually had a kind of soft watery look about them; they would have sparkled with innocence if it weren’t for her eyebrows. They weren’t bushy, but they curved in a funny way that made her appear as though she was on the lookout for something or someone.
When she asked – more like ordered – I shook my head, feebly at first, then vigourously. I felt like a tidal wave had just slapped into me at full force, and was now receding very slowly back into the ocean. I thought I’d had her sussed out; she seemed like a foreign businesswoman, one of those modernised women, who put their career as first priority, followed by pride and then they squeeze in time for friends. After she said that, a thousand questions began burning in my brain. Who was this woman? Why had she asked such a huge question? What gave her the right to do so? How did she know who I was – how had she tracked me down, so far from home?
“I don’t understand,” I managed to say, my voice coming out a lot steadier than I thought it would have. That calmed me a bit. I started exercising more control over my vocal cords anyway.
“No, you understood what I said perfectly well,” she said in a firm voice that sounded almost too forceful. She only looked a few years older than me, yet she seemed to be incredibly mature. “And you’ll agree, Mr Orion, that you have no choice.”
I was now thankful that my coffee hadn’t been delivered yet, because my stomach was an out-of-control washing machine. Without the clothes or detergent. She was looking at me still, scrutinisingly, as though she had never seen another human being before, and her gaze held the same lack of emotion as before. Her clean fingernails were drumming on the glass table rhythmically, impatiently.
I exploded at that point. “I can’t do that! Who are you anyway? Why have you just come up to me like this? I don’t even know you!” And suddenly huge doubts began popping into my mind. Who was she really? Could I trust her, or was she one of those she had just warned me about? I instantly imagined that she had a gun hidden in her bag.
A woman with the tallest mop of hair in the world looked inquisitively at me from another table. She didn’t even try to make it like she wasn’t looking, leaning over rudely. “Nice beehive,” I scowled at her, pointing to my head. She looked highly offended and turned away, patting the monstrosity delicately.
The blonde woman at the table with me was ignoring this; she seemed to be thinking it over very slowly. Her mouth curved almost as dangerously as her eyebrows. I almost shrank back. All this woman seemed to do was LOOK at things. Finally, she spoke, very smoothly. “I realise that this is really sudden for you,” she said, sounding as though she really didn’t care. “Perhaps it would be easier if we went for a more private drive in my car?”
“Oh sure,” I spat angrily. “Have you got your gun loaded? Chloroform all ready to go?”
A bemused look came onto her face, but she refused to speak, so I refused to look at her anymore. I decided to ignore her completely; I picked up the paper that I had been reading before she burst into the café and began trying to look interested. I wasn’t, of course, who could be after what she’d said? I was really quite afraid of her now, just because of the kind of thoughts she had injected into my mind only a few minutes ago. It was a strange rush, though, what she asked me to do. The tiniest part of my brain wanted to find out more. The majority wanted to run, escape, mingle with the Glaswegian shoppers like before, just get away from this woman.
It occurred to me slowly that I couldn’t do that, even though I did want to. This wasn’t really the kind of situation you walked away from, but I had no idea of how to approach it. It then occurred to me that this woman was not just an average, neutral person who had bumped into me by accident at the shops; she had tracked me down from the other side of the world. Either she had good intent or bad.
“My name is Anna,” she said abruptly, before I had even asked. “I realise I’ve probably confused you. I apologise. Maybe it would be best if I briefed you ASAP.”
“Briefed me?” I gaped. What was this, a spy movie? No, it was nothing like a movie. In movies you know what’s going on; you have a camera to show you everything you need to know. Real life’s different. Then, maybe I’d stumbled into one of those stupid TV shows where they approach people in the middle of the street and put them in a ridiculous situation, then at the end tell them it’s a joke. I actually turned around and looked for cameras, but the café was fairly empty, excluding us and the beehive lady and her friend. “What are you, an FBI agent?” I spluttered at last, sarcasm dripping off my voice.
A huge smile filled her face, her cherry lips curving halfway up her cheeks as though her secret had finally been discovered. She didn’t need to respond.
“No way,” I breathed. Anna was a spy or something … well that did make things easier to bear. A little bit. But I still wondered where I fitted into the whole thing.
Anna was speaking almost in a whisper after that, so I really had to listen in. “Close enough,” she said at last. “I’m not with the FBI, I’m with Interpol, working in the Pacific.” It took a good few seconds for this to sink in, but when it did I had more questions than before. My fear had been obscured by excitement.
“So that’s why you asked me,” I said, my brain thawing out.
“Naturally, I’d have a reason. What, you thought some innocent stranger walked up to you and asked you that? Of course not, it’s police business.” She realised she had been speaking a bit loud, and the beehive lady seemed to be listening in again. Anna lowered her voice. “It still won’t slot into place really until I brief you.” She took out a badge and showed it to me, proving her identity as Anna French, Interpol officer. “Will you come with me now, to the Embassy?” she inquired, and I nodded.
“Which embassy?” I asked suddenly. I didn’t think Tropika had embassies anywhere, except maybe the US and Australia.
“Well, I was thinking the Australian Embassy,” said Anna. “The Oceania embassies aren’t widespread yet. Anyway, it’s just a safe place where we can talk.”
I surprised myself then, and her too, by the looks of it. “What about my apartment? It’s just down in Pollokshaws, we could be there in fifteen minutes if we took the train.”
Oddly enough, Anna nodded her head; in fact, she looked quite stimulated by that idea. We left the café without waiting for my coffee to arrive. Within five minutes we were on our way to the train station when Anna suddenly stopped at a parked car, a shiny silver Volkswagon. She unlocked it suddenly. “Get in.” she said, and I did. “It’ll be more private this way,” she added. “I can fill you in a bit more.” Of course, I thought. Anna wouldn’t have taken the train like me. As an interpol agent, she would have had access to any car she wanted.
We weaved through the streets patiently. My mind was not as numb now – the original bluntness of the question had worn off and I was confused as all hell. Anna was so serious, it was freaking me out. I was taking a step at a time. Step one – get Anna to fill me in at my apartment. Step two – well, find out what I myself was going to do.
Of course I had no idea then what was stepping into. I should have had, because of how strange the situation already was, but I just didn’t see anything coming after that. Maybe because I was thinking in steps.
We had just driven across the River Clyde when Anna turned into a side street. I asked her what she was doing – she said she just needed to do a quick check on something. So we wove through sidestreets for about five minutes, then Anna said: “We’re being followed.”
I looked at her in disbelief, then shock. As if. “Are you sure?”
“I just did three circuits of the suburb,” she said, and I realised what she had meant when she said she was ‘checking’ on something. Checking to confirm her suspicions. “That blue sedan is trailing us. DON’T TURN AROUND!” she yelled abruptly, as I began to. “We don’t want them to know anything. Look ahead at the road.”
For the second time in about half an hour I almost laughed at something not funny at all. This was just like a movie. I was petrified they were going to pull out guns and start shooting us any moment. The disturbing thing was, a tiny part of me wanted the action.
Anna kept driving, not even speeding up a bit. I supposed she wanted to act as if she hadn’t noticed anything about the car behind us. Her hands were shaking a bit, though; she was scared. Or just cold. It was a cold day, even by Glasgow standards.
We drove past an apartment block that looked familiar – we had passed it twice already. “Do you have a plan?” I asked Anna, looking at her deep cerulean eyes. I hoped to God that she did. I felt my stomach flop as she shook her head rigidly.
“Not really,” she muttered at last, staring straight ahead. I didn’t react – not out loud anyway. I sneaked a quick glance in the rear view mirror and saw the car trailing us. It wasn’t new but not old either; a middle-aged car. I wanted to get a closer look, but for some reason I felt that if I glanced in the mirror again they would see me and open fire.
Anna drove around a corner that looked quite familiar, and I could see the apartment block coming into view again much further up the street. “This is stupid,” said Anna quite suddenly, sounding on the verge of tears. Oh God, that’s all I need, for her to have a nervous breakdown. The car would veer off the road and crash into a pole, and if I miraculously managed to survive that I’d be gunned down by the people behind us.
“Stupid?” I repeated stupidly.
“Yes,” Anna moaned. “We’ve gone round this block almost five times now. They aren’t as thick as I am,” she said, sounding worn-out. She was the kind of person Melanie would say was ‘self-defeating’.
“So what now?” I said, annoyed at her. “We just drive around till they get bored and shoot us?”
“I don’t know,” she replied quickly. “They might not have guns. They might not even be our biggest enemy. But they probably do have guns, and they probably are our biggest enemy.” I was completely confused now. She paused. “I’d tell you who I think they are, but if you get caught by them, I don’t want you to be anything more than an innocent bystander. On the other hand …” she added suddenly, muttering very quietly to herself.
“Here’s what we’ll do,” Anna said abruptly. “Go into my bag.” She pointed to a sleek black bag at my feet, and I reached for it to follow her orders. “There’s a green notebook in there. And a silver tin. Put them in your backpack.”
I found the green notebook and the tin, then turned to get my backpack from the back seat. And then I saw the blue sedan, speeding up behind us as the road widened into dual-lanes. I saw the driver – a man – hunching over the wheel like he was playing some computer game. Except in this game there were no extra lives. If you crashed, you lost a lot more than points.
“The car’s coming up beside us,” I gasped at Anna. Her scarlet lips tightened and her eyes flickered with some crazy kind of power. I pulled my bag to the front and stared blankly ahead, breathing fast. Slowly my eyes focussed. We had sped up a lot and we were no longer going around that same block. In fact, we were on a road that I was quite sure led out of the city altogether. There were no dense apartment blocks now. There were even a couple of houses that resembled the ones back in Tropika.
“Listen carefully Dane,” said Anna, and I did. “When we get into the forest area north of town – if we make it that far – you’re going to jump from the car when I say to. If you can hide very quickly behind some trees, then you’ll be free. In a way,” she added with a flicker of concern in her eyes. “Now, these guys behind us should keep following the car, rather than going for you. The plan is to keep you safe. They’re going to lose one of us either way. And they hopefully won’t be expecting it.
“When the car is gone, you have to do what I say now. Go as deep into the forested area as you can. Go south for awhile – run the whole way – and then stop for the night somewhere safe. You can read my notebook then. That’s your briefing.” This barely sank in, but I got the gist of it. My knees were already wobbling, though, and adrenaline was pumping through my body.
“By the way,” said Anna. “I don’t think they have guns. They would have shot at us by now if they did. They probably have grenades or bombs instead.” I laughed loudly but realised, feeling sick, that she was being serious.
Very comforting. Thank you Anna.
Fifteen minutes later, my nerves were jangling worse than ever. The blue sedan was following us slowly and steadily now; it had not overtaken us yet. Maybe he was content to cruise behind us until we ran out of petrol. I shuddered at that thought – I could imagine the sinking feeling as the Volkswagon slowed down, then the engine spluttered out, then we were caught. Every few seconds after that I thought I could hear the engine failing. It never did, though.
I looked back at the car a couple of times, while Anna drove silently on. I realised already that we had made a major U-turn about ten minutes ago, around Carmunnock, and now we were approaching the Erskine Bridge. Anna had now told me she was planning to drive to the area around Loch Lomond, where I would leave the car, then she’d drive up north until she decided on a plan. She was considering either stopping at a northern town and losing herself in a crowd, or even curving back to Glasgow and try to trick them on a motorway exit. I think we both knew the first was the easiest.
We passed a nice urban area on the Firth of Clyde, which looked quite pleasant, compared to inner Glasgow. I was actually starting to relax a bit but the car went over a bump and I was jolted back to reality. By now I had started to get a bit unnerved by the car behind us; it was going slowly, but had a sense about it like if it wanted to, it would catch us. It reminded me of a peacock that had stalked me once in the maze at the wildlife park on Marino Island. It had appeared at every corner behind me in the little maze, stalking calmly and silently, as though it had all the time in the world, and strangely enough I actually got quite scared of it.
“Ready?” Anna’s voice sliced through my thoughts, and at once I felt my knees wobbling again. They were jelly. There was no other way to describe them.
We circled around a roundabout, and I saw trees on both sides of the road clustering in, shading me and Anna from the midday sun. Through the trees to the right I thought I saw water, but I didn’t get a good enough look to be sure.
Anna spoke some final words to me as I slipped my seatbelt off and hoisted the bag onto my back. “There’s a bend just up here. If I round it quickly enough, you might be able to conceal yourself before they see you. If they do see you, don’t worry, just keep running. Try to circle back towards Alexandria, then stop and read my notebook. If I don’t see you again, you’ll be able to work out what to do.”
“Just before I go,” I said rapidly, holding the doorhandle tightly. I knew I had to ask. There were some things that the notebook wouldn’t be able to answer.
“Yes?” Anna cried. The corner was approaching.
“Why did you ask me to kill them?” I demanded, suddenly feeling a huge burning anger inside me, that spilled over outside me as well. She glanced at me with those pale azure eyes, looking as though she was about to tell me, and it looked like she really wanted to. I felt a fire in my chest. She had asked me to do it less than an hour ago. I had to know why. But then;
“Goodbye,” said Anna bluntly, and the door swung open widely, revealing the bitumen road rushing past beneath.