Jane Higgins - The Bridge

I turned to Mace. ‘What the hell?’

‘Listen to me.’ He was talking fast. ‘You steer clear of ISIS. Don’t talk to them. Don’t let them find you.’

‘Why? Is this about you teaching me some Breken?’

‘Come and find me when all this is over—’

Dash was back.

Mace grabbed my shoulder and spoke in my ear. ‘Find me!’ Then he was gone.

Dash crouched in front of me. Her face was smoke-streaked. She took my free hand in hers. Her lips moved. ‘Bella,’ is what she said. Bella. She gripped my fingers hard. ‘And Lou.’

Cold. So cold the breath stopped in my mouth, and the blood in my body. Dash’s face blurred. She spoke again but my heart roared and I couldn’t hear. I tried to say, ‘Are you sure?’ but no sound came out. I cleared my throat and tried again and she said, ‘Yes. I’m sure.’

Sol’s sleeping weight was heavy against my shoulder. I said, ‘Hey, buddy, wake up.’ He opened groggy eyes and frowned at me. ‘We have to move,’ I said. ‘We have to find Fyffe.’

Dash took him gently under the arms. ‘Come on, kiddo, up you get.’

I climbed to my feet. Seemed to take forever to get there. ‘Where?’ I asked.

‘I’ll show you,’ she said.

Someone had laid Lou and Bella together. Which was right. On the grass at the far end of the library lawn, away from the building itself because the wall where the bay windows looked out on the lawn was blown out and part of the upper storey had collapsed. The wind from the flames blew bits of paper and ash into the darkness.

Fyffe was there, sobs wrenching her body. She reached out and enfolded Sol.

I looked down at Lou and Bella, still hoping there was some mistake. They were bloody and broken. Clothes burnt and shredded, hair matted with blood, faces… It was them, though. No way to pretend it wasn’t.

I sat down beside Lou. ‘Careful,’ said Dash. ‘There’s glass everywhere.’

We stayed there. We didn’t know what to do, who to go to for help. Nobody moved us on. Nobody noticed us. A security jeep arrived and parked in the driveway, orange lights flashing. And with it, two ambulances. Not enough, though. Not nearly enough. The line of people who were dead or injured stretched down the driveway, bleeding into the grass. People bent over them, wailing.

After I don’t know how long – a long time maybe – someone touched my shoulder. Dash. ‘I… I need to tell you…’ She wiped her face with her sleeve, smearing tears and ash. ‘When Macey sent me to tell the agents about you – before I saw Lou and Bella,’ she reached out and touched Lou’s hand like she was apologizing for not attending to him, ‘I told the agents I’d found you, that you were looking after Sol. They got angry and said to go and bring you back to them. And do it straight away. Without delay , they said.’ She sniffed back tears and cleared her throat. ‘I don’t know why. It makes no sense. Do you know why?’

Mace knew. Dr Williams knew – had known. I had to find Mace and quiz him about ISIS. I had to find that woman, Frieda, and ask her about my parents. But for now, all that could wait. I looked back to where I needed to be looking, which was at Lou and Bella.

Jono stirred. ‘There must be something. Something you’ve done, something you know.’

‘Christ, Jono,’ I said. ‘Like it matters now?’

Time passed. The ground shook – more explosions somewhere away west. Dash stood up. ‘We have to get Sol and Fy home. I’m going to ask permission to take them.’ She put a hand on my head. ‘Back soon.’

Fyffe had exhausted her weeping and knelt beside me, with her arm around Sol, now and then reaching out to touch Lou. Tears came and went.

I stayed. Like standing guard. In case Lou suddenly sat up, winked at Fy and said, Ha! Joke’s over . It’s his kind of thing. Scare the hell out of you and come out laughing at the end of it: Your face! Shoulda seen your face!

To which the standard response was Jesus, Lou. Grow up .

‘Mr Stais.’ I looked up. The ISIS woman. The one who’d been training the recruits. ‘Friends of yours?’ she asked.

I nodded.

‘I’m so sorry. It’s a terrible thing.’ She put a hand on my shoulder and I shivered. ‘Can I talk with you, please.’ Not a question.

I nodded again.

‘Now,’ she said.

I touched Lou’s arm and whispered, ‘Gotta go.’

She took me down the driveway, away from the chaos. Two soldiers stood guard at the school gates, guns slung over their shoulders. The woman knocked on the door of the gatehouse. It opened and a fierce white light spilled out. ‘Stais,’ she said to the man inside – her ISIS partner. She pushed me through the door.

The man said, ‘Turn out your pockets,’ and he searched me. He found a few coins, an ID card, a phone – not working now – all of which he pocketed, but no guns, knives, grenades or anything else that he might have been looking for. He pointed me into a chair and I sat, staring at the floor, feeling sick in the too-bright glare.

‘You’re Nikolai Stais.’ Calm, flat, like he was ticking off the school roll.

I nodded.

‘Where were you tonight after supper?’

Tonight. Supper. Dr Williams.

‘Nikolai? Where were you?’

‘I was… I was in the infirmary garden.’

‘Why were you there?’

‘I needed to get out. Dr Williams—’

‘Dr Williams?’

God. Dr Williams. I sucked in a breath. ‘He let me sit in the garden.’ I squinted up at the agent. He was dressed as he had been on Victory Day, in black, still neat as a bullet waiting to fire. ‘I don’t understand,’ I said. At the back of my mind Mace’s alarm bells were ringing louder by the minute. Don’t talk to ISIS .

‘What don’t you understand?’

The world swam. I dug the heels of my hands into my eyes and pushed my fingers through my hair. They came away black and gritty. ‘I don’t understand what you want.’

‘What do you mean you needed to get out?’

‘Just – for some air. Some space. You know.’

‘I see. And Dr Williams will confirm this?’

I looked up at him. He looked back, waiting.

‘Dr Williams is dead,’ I said.

His eyebrows rose a fraction. ‘How do you know?’

‘I saw him. In the infirmary, with Dr Stapleton and Dr Lewis.’ I gripped my hands together to stop them shaking.

‘You went to the staff wing. Why?’

‘I don’t know. Everyone was… there was chaos, and I’d just been there, and… I don’t know. To see if Dr Williams was all right, I guess.’

‘Did Dr Williams talk to you when you sat in his garden earlier?’

‘No. I mean, not really, just hello and good-bye.’ I was lying to an ISIS agent. I could feel the sweat creep on my scalp. ‘He let me sit in the garden and then he sent me back to the dorm.’

Silence. My heart thumped.

He changed tack. ‘Nikolai, this carnage had inside help.’

‘You don’t mean Dr Williams?’

I think he almost smiled. ‘No. Dr Williams, God rest his soul, does not interest us.’ He folded his arms and studied me with polite blankness. ‘You, however, do.’

‘Why?’

‘Your name, Nikolai Stais.’

Not what I was expecting but I’d got tired of saying I don’t understand , so I just sat and looked at him.

‘Why did you keep it?’ he said.

‘Why did I keep my name ? My name? ‘

‘Just answer the question.’

‘I don’t understand the question.’ I tried changing tack myself. ‘Am I supposed to come up with something clever here? And then you recruit me because I’ve passed some kind of test? I don’t have a clever answer for my name. So I fail your test. Can I go now? My friend is lying out there on the grass and he’s dead. Do you get that? He’s dead. And I can’t do a thing to change that. So right now I don’t give a… I don’t care about my name, or your tests or whatever the hell else you’re doing. I want to go back to him and sit with him and make sure they do right by him.’ I stood up.