Celia doesn’t hesitate for more than a second before she swings the door open.
They can only be here to kill me. Maybe they’ll walk me to the end of the field and do it there, or not even go to the trouble of that, just do it by the cage. I’ll be buried with the potatoes. And this must mean that they’ve killed Marcus. They don’t need me any more. My father is dead.
‘Come out.’ Clay’s voice is casual.
I back up and shake my head. They’ll have to kill me here. And I can’t believe my father is dead.
Then I hear a buzzing in my head – not Celia, a phone. And it’s not coming from the Hunters behind Celia; it’s closer. I feel something grab my right arm and go round my wrist and the fourth Hunter materializes beside me. He’s as big and as ugly as I remembered. Kieran is holding my arm, the handcuff now visible. I try to strike his face with my free hand but he drops down, pulling me by the handcuff, and another of the Hunters has run into the cage and grabbed my left arm. I get a kick in to the female Hunter but then I’m slammed into the bars, my arms are cuffed tightly behind me and I’m slammed into the bars twice more.
‘Move again and I’ll rip your arms out,’ Kieran growls in my ear.
The great thing about hate is that it takes away everything else so that nothing else matters. So then the old trick is easy. I don’t mind about having my arms ripped off, about pain, about anything. I whip my head back and catch Kieran in the face, a cushioned scrunch of his nose on the back of my skull.
He squeals but doesn’t loosen his grip.
My arms get pulled up so I can’t move, but they don’t get ripped off, so I’ve got to wonder how serious Kieran really is.
Kieran drags me out of the cage and pushes me to the ground but I roll and kick up so my boot makes contact with the side of his face. Roll again and get to my feet, but the two female Hunters are on me then and the punch to my kidneys is explosive.
I’m on my knees, my face on the path.
Celia is shouting at Clay, ‘This is unacceptable! I’m his guardian.’
Clay’s voice is calm. He says, ‘The orders are for us to take him.’
There’s a boot on my head keeping my face crushed against the ground.
Celia complains, argues, says she has to come, says she’s going to come, but Clay is good. He just says no.
In the end Celia says she has to take the choker off me. She asks permission.
As she unlocks it her hands are gentle and she says, ‘I’m going to follow you down.’
Clay says, ‘No. We’re going to have to borrow your van. He’s too dangerous to risk putting in the jeep.’
‘Then I’ll drive your jeep.’
‘No, Megan’ll drive it. If you insist on coming I suppose you could ride with her.’
There’s a threat in his voice; Celia must hear it. Megan couldn’t hurt Celia, but she’ll go the wrong way, get lost, run out of petrol. Celia won’t risk falling out with the Hunters; she’ll stay here. She’ll do what they want.
‘Oh yes, I was supposed to give you this.’ Clay’s voice is casual again now.
‘A Notification! When did this happen?’
He doesn’t reply.
‘Two days ago? I should have been told. He’s my responsibility.’
Clay still doesn’t reply.
‘It says that all Half Codes are to be “codified”. What does that mean?’ And I know Celia is saying all this for my benefit.
‘I’m just providing the transport, Celia.’
‘I’ll come down –’
But Clay cuts in. ‘I’ve told you the situation, Celia. He’s ours.’
‘And when are you bringing him back?’
‘I haven’t got instructions about that.’
codified
I’m in Celia’s van, face down on the metal floor. It’s nearly two years since I was last here and yet the rusting paint seems familiar.
Kieran has begun to heal his broken nose but it’s well mashed. He is holding a chain that is attached to my handcuffs and wrapped round my ankles, and he jerks on it to pass the time.
Clay is sitting in the passenger seat at the front, Tamsin is driving, Megan is following in the 4x4 and I guess Celia is still at the cottage.
The only thing to do is rest, but as soon as I doze Kieran yanks at my ankles or lashes my buttocks with the chain. When he’s fed up with that he shouts to the front of the van, ‘Hey, Tamsin, I’ve got another.’
‘Yeah?’ she shouts back.
‘What’s the difference between a Half Code and a trampoline?’
She doesn’t answer and I get a heavy stomp on my back as Kieran says, ‘You take your shoes off to jump on a trampoline.’