Spark (35 page)

“You can live with this?”

She covers her face. “I loved you the moment I knew you existed–”

I slam my hands on the table and shove my chair back. “That doesn’t help me! It sure as hell doesn’t help your son!” Black fog swirls, and I grip the table.

All her safeguards. The sacrifices. For nothing.

A tap on the door and Jamie’s head appears. “We need to move.” His eyes dart between us, and I rise to my feet, feeling weak and giddy.

“Jamie, hang on. I need to get my head around this.”

He closes the door behind him, approaching with caution in his eyes. “Nothing has changed. It was too late for Aiden the moment he touched Kitty.”

The nightmares flicker in my head. The feeling of being lost in my own mind, eaten up on the inside by terrible thoughts. If they’re more than dreams, if they’re some kind of sick, psychic, twin-related KMH then I can’t deny it. Aiden is lost.

My brother
.

Jamie squeezes my shoulder. “Nobody expects you to raise a hand against your brother. You stay here with Kitty. Miriam, obviously we don’t expect you to be involved in this, but I have to move now. If he gets wind he’s been identified, he’ll disappear and we’ll be back to square one, waiting for his next attack. If I go now, I can deactivate him.”

Deactivate
.

A bland euphemism.

I can’t articulate the clash of feeling inside me. “Why not let the police …”

A gently incredulous look fills his eyes. “You think he’d let them take him?”

I open my mouth and close it again.

“Three times he’s come after her,” Jamie says.

“I know, I know. You’re right. It’s just–” I turn to Miriam, hoping for what?

She shakes her head, tears streaming. “There’s nothing we can do to save him. It’s all my fault.”

“I called the boarding house,” Jamie says. “The dean said he’s in his room … I need to go now.”

I grip Jamie’s arm. “It’s early. There’ll be kids around.”

“No one will know I’m there.”

Chilled by his certainty, I release him.

Jamie turns to my aunt. “You should probably go.”

“I’ll stay.”

He looks for a moment like he’ll press his point but then he concedes with a nod. “I want Kitty in the panic room while I’m gone and everyone on alert. Keep her there until I can give you confirmation.”

Code for, I’ll let you know when your brother is dead.

Miriam looks up from the table, her face desolate. “Don’t let him suffer.”

I can’t feel my legs as I follow Jamie out into the foyer. I can’t swallow for the lump in my throat. It’s all moving too fast. He zips up a black backpack waiting at the foot of the stairs; I don’t want to know what’s in it.

Kitty stands with her parents at the entrance to the living room, her dove eyes huge and glistening with tears. She looks terrified. Leonard, as pale as I have ever seen him, stares at his son with unreadable eyes. Barb sobs quietly in her husband’s arms.

After all these weeks of preparation, to be doing nothing, to think of sitting and waiting while Jamie goes out to take care of things. The roar of adrenaline almost deafens me and, impossibly, I feel an irrational urge to warn Aiden, but to wish him safe is to wish Kitty dead. Synaptic treason.

I could never wish that.

I never will.

“No. No. This isn’t right. I should go too.”

Jamie slings his backpack over his shoulder and goes to his sister. His lips move and he rubs her arms then he takes her by the hand and they come towards me in slow motion. He deposits Kitty beside me, cups my cheek, his eyes tight with regret and determination.

“I should do it,” I say. “This is my responsibility.”

“And what would it do to Miriam if you did?” he says. “What would it do to you once the Fixation Effect is gone?”

“I could live with it.”

“You shouldn’t have to. No one should.” He lets his hand fall. “Keep her safe.”

The sound of the door closing echoes in my hollow chest.

“If Aiden had never met me, he’d be normal,” Kitty says. “I’m like an infection, destroying people’s lives.”

“Kitty.” Barb turns in Leonard’s arms.

“That’s bullshit,” I say. “How many times do I have to tell you it’s not your fault? Now, go to the bathroom.” It seems like sensible advice. “You’ve got five minutes then you’re in lockdown.”

She shudders and turns to the stairs like her feet are cast in lead. I watch her all the way up to the landing, wishing there was something I could say that would make a difference. The bandwidth has emptied, adrenaline drains away. I feel bloodless, lifeless with the drop in energy. “Mr and Mrs Gallagher, Jamie wants us to be on alert while he’s away.”

“I’ll watch the gate,” Leonard says. “Barb’ll stay with Kitty.”

Barb reaches for my hand, looking tortured. “I’m so sorry … your brother … I wish there was something …”

“I’m going to go get changed.” I withdraw my hand gently and jog upstairs, fleeing sympathy, ignoring the pain in my bicep.

It’s a forty-minute drive to Gainsborough. I have no idea how long it will take for Jamie to locate Aiden. I wonder if he will extract him from the boarding house. I doubt he’ll want to take care of things in a building full of kids.

Take care of things
.

Aiden’s going to die.

I shake myself. I need to feel ready, even if I just sit here all night and Jamie returns without complication. I need pockets and none of my pants are up to the job. I run back along the landing to Jamie’s room.

It would have been funny in different circumstances, rummaging the shelves in his dressing room for cargo pants. I pull an old pair out and something flutters to the ground. The photo falls face up. Jamie and Helena – the picture Barb showed me. Did she take it from his room without him knowing? Put it back here? Is he hiding it? Looking closely at it now, Helena looks older than me, grinning in her snow gear, cheek pressed to his, the mountains behind them. Such blue eyes. I think of Jamie’s parting words in the foyer, that no one should have to go through this. And here she is, his ticket out. Feeling heavy in my chest, I return it to the shelf and go back to my room.

The pants are loose in the waist and too long, but I slide one of my belts through the loops and roll the hems. I change my bulky sweatshirt for a fitted black turtleneck, burning my bicep with the movement. To complete the sense of ritual, I secure my hair in a ponytail. I don’t look in the mirror. I can’t bear to see my face.

Back in the hall, I meet Kitty coming from her room. She is pale, journal tucked under her arm, iPod clutched in her hand. She gives a tremulous smile, lifting her eyebrows at my pants. “You make those look good. Very Lara Croft.” Her voice falters as she sees me glaring at her journal. “No letters. I promise.”

I fumble in my back pocket for the piece of paper I’ve brought from my room. I hand it to her. “Write more of these.”

She unfolds it, biting her lips, and stares at her crumpled To Do list. Her eyes well up. “This is kind of embarrassing.”

“It’s a good list.”

We stand there staring at the piece of paper.

“Evie.” Leonard appears at the bottom of the stairs, wearing a thick parka. “Can I have a word?”

Kitty and I make our way downstairs. Barb comes from the living room. “I’m with you, sweetie.” She circles her daughter’s shoulders, her smile tight and thin. “You know where to find us.” Kitty squeezes my wrist and goes with her mother. Leonard nods me towards his office and I follow.

He drops into his chair, his parka shushing as he sits. On his laptop screen, six security footage windows show images of the grounds: shrubs shake in the wind, trees flail wild limbs, rain falls in torrents. “I’ll be here.” He points to the bottom corner, which shows the front gate. “But I’ll patrol along the east border to here.” He points at the window above.

“The weather’s miserable.” I cringe. “You don’t have to. I’m sure Jamie won’t be long.”

“I want to feel useful, Evangeline. Just this once.” Leonard adjusts his glasses and looks up at me with his son’s grey eyes. “Let me see your watch.”

I lift my wrist and he taps the screen and turns the face, then does the same with his. “We’ll be able to stay in audio contact.”

I swallow.

“You’ll want a gun?” he says.

“I was going to ask.”

He turns to the safe beneath his desk. He taps an access code and the hydraulic release pops the door. He pulls out two silver handguns and extra clips of ammunition, lays them on his blotter and holds one up for me. He shows me the gun is loaded and how to work the safety latch. “It’s basic point and shoot.”

I take it from him; the cool weight of it makes me shiver. I slip the spare clip in a pocket on my left thigh. “Will I blow my leg off if I keep it in here?” I unzip the big pocket on my right thigh.

“Not if the safety’s on.”

I walk with him to the foyer. He tucks the other gun in the back of his belt, pulling the long parka down over it. The rain sounds terrible. It makes me nervous, the way it muddies the bandwidth, interfering with the pulse of the tether.

Leonard pulls me into his arms, a quick crushing hug, planting a kiss on the top of my head. He goes out the door, misty-eyed behind his glasses.

I turn to the dining room, bracing inwardly to face Miriam, but she isn’t in there. I check my watch. Jamie has only been gone a quarter of an hour. My pins and needles crackle and I curse the rain. I push through the swing door, the smell of another forgotten meal grown cold on the stovetop.

My stomach growls.

Miriam leans on the sink.

A gun lies on the counter beside her.

“You should eat,” she says.

I don’t argue. Crossing to the oven I nab a cold potato and stuff it in my mouth. My body needs fuel and I stay there, working my way through the roast vegetables, pretending not to feel Miriam behind me, trying not to hear the swelling silence.

“Where do you want me?” Miriam finally says.

I cross to check the butler’s pantry, to keep from facing her. The cellar door is locked. “They’re in?”

She nods.

I swallow my last bite and turn to the sink, still not looking directly at her. “Excuse me.”

Miriam moves aside.

I open the faucet, bend and drink. When I straighten up, Miriam offers me a towel, but I wipe my chin on the back of my hand instead. Stupid and petty. I can feel her waiting for me to say something, but what does she expect,
It’s okay, Mom
?

“Leonard’s on the gate. I’ve got him on audio, so maybe you want to set your watch, so we’re all on the same page. I’m going to lock down the house. You could stay here till I get back. Whatever.”

“Okay.” She takes her gun in hand and checks the cartridge.

I turn to the back hall, willing myself not to bolt, willing her not to speak and just let me go.

“Evie.”

I stop but can’t face her.

“Forgive me.”

“For what? For having me?” I push through the door.

I focus on the simple demands of moving my body and completing small tasks, locking doors and windows downstairs. It feels good to do something. In Leonard’s study, I check the security feed. Leonard is at the gate. The other squares of the grid show the same shrubs and trees and rain. My brain tries to morph the shadows into an assailant.

No, there will be no assailant. Jamie will see to it. Jamie, who I love.
There, I admit it
. Jamie will kill my brother.
My brother
. I struggle to imagine a life where that exists. A pair. Twins. Evie
and
Aiden.

I call his face to memory, our last meeting at the governor’s office, the way he moved, the way he spoke. The way I responded to his proximity at school and how I always second-guessed myself. Did he feel my presence the way I felt his, without comprehending what it meant?

Is he terrified? Does he sleep? Does he run? Does he know what’s happening to his body?

With Aiden haunting me, I make a quick pass along the second floor to Kitty’s room. I try not to picture her in the cellar, it makes me cold.
Jamie’s doing the right thing
. I have to tell myself over and over.

A loud crackle from my watch nearly has me on the ceiling. I tap the screen, my hands shake. “Yeah?”

Nothing but a faint hiss.

“Mr Gallagher?”

Nothing.

“Mr Gallagher?”

I cross to the window and pull back the curtain. It’s fully dark now. I can see the gate in the distance but with the rain I can’t judge what’s out there.

I jog back down to Leonard’s study, jelly legs and jangling nerves. I flick through the security feed but can’t see him. Anxiety fizzes beneath the surface of my skin. I tap my watch, lifting my wrist close to my mouth. “Are you there, Mr Gallagher?”

Nothing.

I stare blankly at the screen in momentary paralysis then lurch to my feet, bruising my thigh on the corner of the desk as I hurry from the study out into the foyer. A clap of sound from my watch stops my heart and I skid to a standstill. An echo comes from outside, the report of a gunshot.

“No!” Fire erupts in my spine, a sickening note pierces my eardrums and glass explodes above my head. Darkness. Crystal from the chandelier rains down.

Miriam bursts from the kitchen. “Leonard!”

“Stay here!” I almost wrench the front door from its hinges. My feet don’t touch the porch. I land on gravel. Shadows storm my mind.

Maybe it’s a mistake
.

Maybe Leonard got spooked
.

Maybe his watch shorted
.

Torrential rain slicks my hair, my clothes, driving splinters from the chandelier beneath my collar as I tear down the long drive, cursing the sky. The storm’s roar blurs with the static shrilling in my head, making me feel blind and afraid.

He isn’t at the gate.

I cut along the eastern boundary, slipping in the wet when I see him, his legs spread-eagled in mud and grass, his body obscured by shrubs. I hammer my watch, bringing it to my mouth as I run, screaming incoherently, not hearing Miriam’s crackling response. I punch the screen to send out the alert and land on my knees, panting, hysterical, smelling blood.