Fractured A Slated Novel

Chapter FORTY THREE



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‘I’m feeling rather angry,’ Nico says. His eyes and voice are ice; not just cold, but glacial. ‘Someone must pay.

‘You.’ He glances at Tori while still holding his gun trained directly on me. ‘You did one right thing, at least. Calling me. I was nearly here anyhow, so came up quietly to see what was the emergency, and what do I find? You let our prisoner out,’ he says to Tori.

He turns and trains his gun on her.

She blanches. ‘No, Nico; no, I—’

‘You deny that you unlocked the door?’

‘No, but—’

‘It was my fault,’ I say.

He spins back to face me. ‘And who is that?’ He gestures at Cam, bleeding and still on the ground.

‘Just someone from school; but I don’t know. Something else, too. He followed me. He shouldn’t have been able to do it.’

‘You let someone follow you here?’ He shakes his head in disgust. ‘Such stupidity I am surrounded by! Who shall pay?’ He sighs. He cocks the gun at me, and Dr Lysander steps forward and raises a hand, about to say something, but I pull her back.

He pulls the trigger; it rings out loud in the woods. Over our heads again.

I stand frozen. Fear. Shock. Eyes turned as far as they can be from Cam, from blood on the back of his head, from my blood also, but I cannot collapse now, I can’t. Breathing deeply, blanking it from my mind. Holding it away, to one side, so now can be dealt with.

‘And you, Rain. Such deceit; it wounds me. Why aren’t you at Chequers right now where you should be?’

‘I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t hurt her, of all people. She’s done nothing to deserve getting shot.’

He shakes his head. ‘Stupid girl. If she’d made her speech as we wanted, that would have been icing on the cake. But you needed to be there at 4 pm! You idiot.’ He is shaking with fury.

Yet…why did I need to be there at 4? The seconds are ticking along. 3:50 pm now. What was going to happen there at 4? I’m confused. I was supposed to kill her at the first ceremony, inside.

Unless he always knew I wouldn’t be able to do it.

The rage in Nico’s eyes is absolute. ‘After all I’ve done for you.’ He shakes his head. Steadies the gun again. ‘I should do this, right now, but I will not. There is a reason, you know,’ he says, conversationally. ‘You must live to die another day. Your death can still have such impact! It would have been the perfect occasion for it today. But no matter. Another time. If we have to drug you and prop you up, we’ll see to it you are on film and screen for evermore: the angelic-looking little blond Slated girl who kills people, and takes her own life.’

I shake my head, not understanding. Too horrified to move, too scared to speak.

‘Of course. It makes sense now,’ Dr Lysander says. ‘You want to publicly prove a Slated can be violent, to strike at all the Lorders are doing in one swoop. But what about all the Slateds? What would happen to them?’

Realisation seeps through my numb fear. ‘The Lorders would see us all as a risk. They wouldn’t know who might turn. What would they do about it?’

‘Any atrocities the Lorders commit further our cause. Give us more supporters.

‘Tori,’ he barks. ‘Lock these two up together.’

She stands there, staring at him. Confusion on her face. ‘But what will happen to all the Slateds?’

He rolls his eyes. Raises his gun and points it at her. Then her eyes focus behind him; I see it as he does. There is a split second where he wonders if she is misdirecting him, but before he can decide his gun flies through the air, kicked out of his hand. By Katran.

‘You bastard,’ Katran snarls. Nico feints, spins round and knocks Katran off his feet.

‘Tori!’ Nico shouts. ‘Choose sides.’

Tori picks up Nico’s gun, stares at it in her hand.

She looks to me and then back at the gun. I walk over, feet still faltering but stronger now. ‘Give it to me,’ I say. Hold out my hand.

Nico and Katran grapple on the ground. There is a flash of silver and Katran cries out: Nico has sliced into his arm with a hidden knife. Nico scrambles to his feet, knife out. Lunging. Katran rolls away and pulls out his knife. Gets to his feet.

‘Ben is alive!’ Nico yells. ‘She knows it.’

Tori’s face contorts. She raises the gun. I dive and a shot ricochets behind.

Dr Lysander is frozen. ‘Run,’ I scream at her, and this time, she does, into the trees, me following behind, my muscles working again enough to stumble along behind her but not keeping up. Crying inside with each step with fear for Katran: Nico can’t win that fight. Can he?

But then there are new sounds: shouts. Feet thudding.

I look back, and there, through the trees: Lorders. Half a dozen of them at least, converging on the house on foot.

RUN.

‘Stop,’ a voice says in front. A voice I know.

And I do just that. Instead of diving, attacking, anything, I just stop.

Facing me is Coulson.

‘You could have made things much easier on yourself if you’d just told me what was happening here. Luckily young Cam called us in and tracked you here.’

‘Tracked me…? How?’

He taps his forehead, half smiles. An unnatural movement of his facial muscles. A gun has appeared in his hands and is pointed at my head.

After everything, is this it? There are shouts, fighting and noise behind us that gradually fade away, until all there is, is here, and now. My eyes, and his. My legs are jelly. I half fall to my knees.

‘Let me go,’ I whisper.

‘I can’t do that.’

‘Please.’

He shakes his head. What happens beyond us is still dim, a distant other place, unconnected to this moment. Yet some persistent sound intrudes, nears. Until—

Coulson steadies the gun in both hands and pulls the trigger.