Fractured A Slated Novel

Chapter TWENTY



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The next day is crisp and cold, with a few clouds light and high enough that they shouldn’t cause trouble.

I strap on my bike helmet. ‘Are you sure you don’t mind switching to a bike ride today?’

‘Your wish is my command,’ Cam says, bowing down. ‘Where do you want to go?’

‘Follow me!’

We head out. The roads are quiet today with the holiday, if Remembrance Day can be thought of that way. I’d memorised the map grid. We should be able to check at least three possible locations of Ben’s running track today. I shrug off the doubting voice that says even if I find the right village and the right track, I won’t know it unless he happens to be running at the exact same time. At least I’m doing something.

Amy had been SO pleased to hear Cam and I were going cycling. Mum, off with Aunt Stacey for the day, thinks we are chaperoning each other, and I wonder what Amy and Jazz will get up to. Amy had smirked at Cam and me when we left. She assumes things about us that aren’t true.

But I’m dancing inside because Ben has been spotted; there is no other reason. This is just going for a bike ride. Cam said he understands about Ben. We’re just friends.

At a small bridge I duck off-road to a canal path. I glance back to make sure Cam follows: something is coming up fast behind him on the narrow country lane. The sun in my eyes makes it difficult to see, and I squint. A black van?

We disappear down the canal path, and I shake off unease. If that even was Lorders, they are all over the place. It’s just coincidence.

A few miles later we are back on a country road, cycling side by side, close to the first village to check. There is a rumble, a car coming up behind, and Cam slips in front. There isn’t much room for passing cars and we both move as far to the left as possible. It is getting closer and Cam glances back. His eyes widen.

I turn just in time to see a blur of motion. A black sliding door opens, an arm swings out and connects with my shoulder. And I’m flying through the air in a slow-motion tumble, then landing, hard, half on the side of the road and half in a hedge. Tangled in my bicycle.

I look up. My vision is swimming, but I can’t mistake what gets out of the van and stands over me. Big and dressed in black: a Lorder.

‘Get up,’ he says.

I try to push myself up with my arms, but struggle to move with my legs under the bicycle. He kicks me in the side.

I groan.

Another blur of motion and Cam is there, grabbing the Lorder by the arm. ‘Leave her alone! You’re making a big mistake,’ Cam says.

No Cam, no. Terror finds strength and I push the bike away, pull myself to my feet.

Something you don’t see every day: a smiling Lorder. ‘I think you’ll find, boy, that you are making the mistake. This has nothing to do with you.’ He turns and shoves Cam, easily landing him on the ground.

‘You, get in.’ He points at me. I don’t move and he bends over, grabs and twists my arm, pushing me to the van.

Cam struggles to his feet. ‘Leave her!’ he shouts.

The Lorder sighs as if an annoying fly is buzzing round his face, lets go of my arm and swings at Cam. His fist connects with the side of Cam’s face and makes a sickening sound. He crumples to the ground, slow. Something inside says run while the Lorder is distracted, do it now, but I can’t leave Cam, and I’m filling with rage, hands clenching into fists.

He is too big. Wait.

And the moment for running is past. Now it is not just me shoved into the van, but Cam, too.

Two Lorders. The mountain is in the back with us, while the other, a more normal-sized woman, is driving.

We drive up bumpy roads. Cam is groaning on the floor, eyes closed. I hold his head in my lap. His cheek is bleeding. He coughs, tries to say something.

‘Silence!’ the mountain says.

Where are we going? Why?

I always wondered what really happens to people snatched by Lorders. Looks like we’re going to find out.

I count the time. We’ve gone perhaps two miles on bumpy lanes, then eight or ten on fast smooth roads, when the van pulls off again onto a lane. No windows in the back: we could be anywhere in that radius.

Cam’s eyes are open now, looking at Mountain, judging. Back to me. I’d expect him to be blank with terror, but his eyes are calm. Pain twists inside: Cam stood up to this wall of muscle for me, and look what it got him.

‘Sir?’ I say, and Mountain turns, surprise registering on his thick face.

‘What.’

‘Please. Can’t you let him go?’ I say.

‘How sweet. Shut up.’

‘But—’

And a hand swings out, checks itself to stop last second before hitting my face, just as I feel Cam tensing to jump. No, Cam! Don’t be such an idiot.

‘Silence!’

We come to a stop. The door is opened from the outside, where there are more Lorders in black ops gear. Mountain gets out and has a few words with them, then disappears through a door. One reaches for me and another for Cam, pulling us out of the van. The rage is there, so much inside me. Mountain is gone and these look more my size.

I spin round and jump-kick one of them in the head. He crumples to the ground. Cam struggles with the one holding him and I swing round and chop his captor in the back of the head, but then there are footsteps, too many, running into the room. Arms holding me. I struggle, but then something jabs my arm. Everything starts going black. I fight to keep my eyes open. Cam is being dragged across the floor, not moving. There are four, no, more Lorders. Their faces blur in and out until each one looks a whole group of identical expressionless faces. I slip to the ground.

I wake slowly, but I don’t want to. As I do I start to remember. I was in a car, feeling it bump along the road the only clue because I could see nothing, couldn’t move. Head still so thick. It was that drink they gave me, wasn’t it?

I frown to myself. Before that, how did I get in that car?

Memory trickles in and I panic. I was supposed to meet Daddy, but it wasn’t him. Somebody else that I didn’t know said they were taking me to him, that it was part of a game.

Daddy is a secret agent. He is going to free the world, he said so. And not to tell Mum, like when I was drawing those signs for him. She got mad.

My head thuds, everything feels disconnected. My mouth is dry, and I try to swallow.

‘She’s coming round.’ A man’s voice. Who?

I open my eyes.

‘There you are, Lucy. Welcome to your new home.’

I sit up in a rush and everything spins.

‘Where’s Daddy? Who are you?’

‘I’m your doctor. Doctor Craig.’

‘I’m not sick!’

‘No. But you will be.’ He smiles, but it isn’t a nice smile.

I start screaming and a woman comes in, a nurse. She fusses, says I’ll be all right, to go back to sleep.

Soon after the door clicks shut. A key scrapes in the lock and turns. Footsteps thud down the hall.