Root (54 page)

He shoved me along. I moved as slowly and
clumsily as possible, feigning an injured leg. Karla had warned me
not to leave the station, but I wasn’t sure how much longer I could
stall. The guy was getting pretty nervous and pissed
off.

I walked slowly to a handicap access ramp that
led up and out of the station. The concrete carried a sheen from
the light mist was falling, droplets swirling under the street
lamps.

Now that we were almost outside, I was the one
getting nervous. Time was running out. The odds of my escaping
would get no better than they were at this very moment with me and
him one on one. If this guy had any friends on the way, my chances
of freedom would slide to the infinitesimal. I considered making a
run for it.

A dark shape shifted in the shadows behind a
vending machine. A shoe scraped on the concrete.

“
Drop it!”

Karla stepped out from behind the vending
machine wielding a foot long chef’s knife. My thrill turned
instantly to panic on seeing her pathetically inadequate
weapon.

“
Karla. He’s got a gun!”

The bounty hunter looked at her and chuckled.
“Ooh! Such a big knife for a little girl. Who’s this? Your
girlfriend?”

“
Put that gun down,” said Karla,
with a growl to her voice. She came after him like a
fencer.

He laughed again. “No. You drop your blade,
sweetcakes, or your boyfriend gets it. What on earth are you
thinking? You’re ten feet away and I’ve got a gun. Do you think
you’re a fucking ninja? You’re not even holding it
properly.”

“
Oh? And how is my sister holding
that shotgun?”

“
What … shotgun?”

“
Isobel!”

Isobel turned the corner behind us and leveled
an ornate shotgun with a burl wood stock at him.

The guy wheeled around, using me as a shield.
Karla pounced, extending fully, jamming the point of her blade into
the wrist of his weapon hand. The gun went off as he lost his grip,
deafening in my ear, hot gases from the barrel singing my cheek. I
thought I was dead, but the bullet struck high on a wall above a
ticket counter. Plaster crumbled down.

I spun away and dove onto the tile floor,
scrambling for the pistol before it could slide onto the
tracks.

The bounty hunter crouched, his good hand
clamped over his wrist. Blood trickled down his fingers and pooled
on the white tiles.

“
You won’t get far,” he said. “None
of you. I’ve got friends on the way.”

“
You are not the only one with
friends,” said Karla. “And don’t you dare think one minute that my
little sister does not have the will to shoot. Her father takes her
for skeet, and she is a very good shot and full of hate for evil
men, aren’t you Izzie?”

“
That’s right, La. I say kill them
all!”

“
Stand next to that
pillar.”

“
What?”

“
Do it, or we will dispose of you
here and now. It might interest you to know that we have all three
contemplated suicide. It is how we met. Think about that. Your
death means nothing to us. We have nothing to lose.”

The guy’s cell phone went off. Isobel saw it
lying on the ground next to the Coke machine and crushed it under
her heel.

“
You’re all a bunch of loonies,”
said the guy.

“
Now go! Up against the pillar.
James, Isobel keep your guns on him.”

I pointed the guy’s own pistol at him, though
I had no idea how to cock or even to tell if it had a safety.
Isobel kept the barrel of the shotgun leveled on his chest. Her
gaze had a manic intensity.

The bounty hunter complied grudgingly, leaning
against a support pillar that was about as him. Karla pulled a
bicycle chain from her handbag, went behind the pillar and reached
the chain around his torso, twisting it until it dug into his flab
and locking it onto a metal mount for a fire
extinguisher.

“
That should hold you a little
while.”

“
You won’t get far,” said the bounty
hunter. “If he had come along with me they might have let him live,
being a first-timer and all. But not no more. Not after this.
Clemency’s out the window. They’ll have every miscreant in Europe
on your trail. They’ll nab your bum. You just wait.”

“
Good luck finding us where we are
going,” said Karla.

“
Oh? And where’s that? Let me guess.
The Isle of Man? The Orkneys?”

“
Frelsi,” said Karla. “Come, Isobel
… James. They are probably waiting for us.”

***

We exited the station to a city that
glistened. Veils of mist, silvered by the street lamps, wafted in
the fickle breeze, droplets so tiny they defied gravity, rising and
flying, refusing to fall.

A wheeled suitcase sat next to a phone booth,
pull handle extended. Karla slipped her blade into an outer pocket,
but left the handle sticking out. Isobel concealed the shotgun
beneath her oversized raincoat. I didn’t know what to do with the
gun. I had seen guys in movies stick them under their belts in the
small of their back, so that‘s what I did, worried I might shoot
myself in a butt cheek in the process.

Karla strode off towards a bridge wheeling the
suitcase behind her. Isobel trotted to catch up. I checked the
entrance of the station to make sure we weren’t being followed and
went after them.

The streets were abandoned. The occasional
delivery van went by, raking us with its headlights.

“
So where exactly are we going?” I
said.

“
Isobel has a cousin in Glasgow
who’ll put us up. He’s the Black Sheep of the family. An
atheist.”

“
Glasgow? But isn’t that kind of
close? We can’t stay put there. They’ll find me.”

Karla set her chin and swiveled her head
around, regarding me with cool, clear eyes. “You’re not coming with
us.”

“
What?”

“
Only Izzie and I are going to
Glasgow.”

“
I don’t understand.”

“
It is simple. The only way for us
to be together is to stay apart. Keep our hearts heavy. That is the
trick.”

“
But that’s ridiculous! But it
doesn’t have to be this way. We could run away
together.”

She twitched her head, quickly and decisively.
“There is nothing left for us in this world. Root is where we
belong. We just need to find Frelsi and learn how to ditch this
place without giving up our souls. And now that we find those upper
reaches, I think we are closer than ever. No?”

“
But there’s nothing there. I went
on with Bern and Lille after you guys faded. There’s nothing there
but wilderness.”

“
You can’t know that. You are here.
You must have faded right after us.”

“
Come with me to Rome. I know how to
keep us safe there.”

“
You are not safe anywhere with us,
nor we with you. Three are much easier to track than one. You are
better off on your own.”

We walked onto the bridge as a heavy truck
rumbled across and shook the grating. I could see a river churning
far beneath the treads.

“
But what if something happens … and
I never see you again?”

“
That’s a chance we need to take.
Don’t you understand, James? Frelsi is eternity. Frelsi means
freedom.”

“
I don’t care about fucking
eternity. I want you now.”

Karla stopped and turned around under the
street light. Isobel stood by her side, rapt and enthralled by our
quarrel. Her eyes were just as fierce and determined as her
sister’s.

“
Think about what you just said. How
stupid you sound. Immature. And after all you have seen. Think
about it, and you will know why I feel how I feel.”

I was shivering. There was plenty of chill in
the air, but I didn’t feel cold. I felt adrift.

“
But where will I go?”

“
I have someone coming who will take
you to Wales for now. But you must not stay in any one place too
long. But Wales is a lovely place to start. Safe and lonely, where
can you miss me and be miserable in peace.”

“
This is insane. Why won’t you come
with me?”

She rolled her eyes. “You are being dense
again, James. How many times do I have to explain to you the art of
surfing?”

She looked at me with eyes as hard as the
steel beams that made the bridge, and as soft as the rain. “Life
here mostly sucks, James. And even when it is not, it is temporary.
We both know there is something better … and forever. Victoria’s
people know how to make it so our bodies can be discarded. But it
will take time.”

A small car—a Fiat—pulled up, driven by a
thirty-ish man with a flat top and a nose ring. Isobel hopped into
the back, propping her shotgun up against the window. The guy got
out and loaded Karla’s suitcase into the trunk.

My heart tumbled, my innards swirled, as if my
organs had been caught up in a violent storm.

“
James, this is Linval. His friend
Sturgis should be coming along soon to take you to his Grandpa’s
place in Brynmawr. He’ll give you room and board in return for
chores. He’s lost a leg and does not get around as well as he used
to.”

My head was swimming. “When did you … arrange
all this?”

“
Wales was supposed to be for Izzie
and I. Back when I still hoped you would never find me in
Inverness. But then you came and now I see it is a better place for
you. Izzie and I can lose ourselves in Glasgow. No one in the
family is in touch with Linval. They don’t even know he is
alive.”

She opened the passenger side door.

“
Karla … no … I can’t do
this—”

“
You are not to come to Glasgow, do
you understand? And stay out of Cardiff, too. There is too much big
time drug dealing there.”

“
But … Karla … I can’t live … I
don’t want to … without you.”

She paused and looked at me. Something in my
eyes and posture must have affected her because she stepped away
from the car, swooped over and settled into my arms, pressing her
cheek up against mine. I was too obliterated to hug her back, but
my arms slowly found their way around her shoulder
blades.

Tears dribbled onto her collar and mixed with
the raindrops already beaded on the nylon. I didn’t sob or
anything, I just leaked. I wanted to say stuff but my words refused
to congeal.

“
Don’t worry. You just ride that
storm. Let your heart despair, as I will mine. The more you do, the
sooner we’ll see each other in Root.”

She lifted herself up on her toes and studied
my eyes. “We are both young,” she said. “Time is on our side.” She
kissed me on the lips, brief and soft, and stepped away.

She got into the car without looking back and
slammed the door. Isobel stared back at me, a faint smile curling
her lips—a blonde Mona Lisa. The window rolled down. Karla jabbed
her finger at the window towards a lone headlight coming our way
across the bridge.

“
Here comes your ride.”

The Fiat pulled out from the curb and did a
three point turn, heading back across the bridge. A motorcycle
pulled up, ridden by a young man with a black goatee. He wore a
watch cap under his helmet.

“
I’m Sturgie. Hop on mate. We’d best
be off. It’s a six hour ride to my Granddad’s.”

I got onto the back of the bike and looked
across the bridge towards the Fiat’s retreating tail lights. I
lifted my eyes to the chaos of the clouds just now beginning to
reveal their true nature in the burgeoning dawn.

The motorcycle roared off and I knew right
then that my heart would never heal, would never be at calm, not
here in this world, not ever unless Karla and I found our way to
Frelsi. We were doomed to one path forward through this life. I
could only pray we weren’t reaching for the unreachable.

Epilogue: What, no
death?

Wait, wasn’t he supposed to die? But he does.
Just not yet.

In a hurry, are you? Wishing me dead? There
was a time when I too rooted for bad things to happen to me,
because that was my only ticket to Root.

Death will come for both me and you, I
guarantee, before you know it. There’s much more to tell about the
time that comes before. We’ve only scratched the surface
here.

But that will have to wait because
…

I’m fading … not to Root … not to Earth … but
to a place where only the good and the dead can go.

*****

THE END