Darkhaven

Monday was my first day back at school with a clear head. I started to understand why Stephen was worried about my grades drawing attention. Even though I was distracted all day by my pending training and a persistent fear that Dad might have me abducted again, I found it easy to follow what was happening in classes. I was terrified that I would have another sensory overload attack, so I avoided anything stimulating and holed myself up in the library at lunchtime. Cecelia was all too happy to sit and study and Zenna wasn’t at school anyway. I messaged her, but she didn’t reply.

At the end of the day, I told Alex I was staying late for tutoring, chucked my books in my locker and headed for the eastern gate. There was no one around; main roads ran past the north and south of the school, so most students came and went from the gates on those sides. The eastern gate was mainly for service access. Keraun had promised he would keep watch, but my skin still prickled as I recalled Dad’s men appearing out of nowhere in the living room. I stood next to a peppy tree, glancing around for signs of movement and wondering if I would see them coming anyway.

Tyres crunched on the gravel driveway. My muscles tightened, but I saw the silver Toyota and relaxed a few degrees. Stephen passed me the black pouch again as I got in. ‘It blocks your phone signal. Make sure you use it when you come to Darkhaven, or leave your phone behind.’

I stuffed my phone in the bag, trying to look calm, but my hands trembled.

‘Are you okay?’

‘Sure.’ I didn’t meet his eyes, taking my time stowing the phone in the glovebox.

‘What happened?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Gabby,’ Stephen said, voice stern, ‘I can tell. You’re nervous.’

I shot him a glare. ‘Shouldn’t I be? This whole experience is nerve-wracking.’

‘Have you had another breakdown?’

I pressed my lips together and looked away. I could let him think that. But it irked me. I’d been careful, since Saturday, to monitor my senses and stay away from anything potentially overwhelming.

Stephen’s brows drew together. ‘Is it that Keraun guy? Is he bothering you?’

I almost laughed. If only he knew. I trusted Keraun when he said he didn’t know what Darkhaven was up to, although I suspected he still knew more than he was letting on. Hell, he was a god. He definitely knew more than he was letting on.

Stephen let it go, at least until we arrived at Darkhaven. Back in the stainless steel kitchen, he directed me to the table, placed a glass of water in front of me and sat opposite, waiting for me to speak. I’d been telling myself to keep quiet about Dad and my visit to the Taskforce because I didn’t want Stephen to lock me in a stainless steel room for my own safety, yet that wasn’t entirely true. I didn’t want to admit that my own father had betrayed my trust. And I hadn’t seen it coming. It was like he’d ripped out the rug I’d been standing on, and now I was scrabbling for a foothold.

But by being so stubborn about not talking, I’d given away the gravity of the situation. Stephen might only have guessed before, but now he knew something was wrong. I mentally kicked myself. Savah leapt onto the table and sniffed my water glass.

‘Okay,’ I said, shooing the cat and wrapping my hands around the glass, just to have somewhere to put them. ‘The Taskforce got me. At least, I think it was them.’

Alarm flashed across Stephen’s face for half a second, then he resumed his normal calm. ‘When?’

‘After you dropped me back at home.’ I couldn’t bring myself to say “Dad” out loud. It was too much like a sound that I was supposed to associate with love and safety.

Stephen sighed. ‘I should have stayed.’

I shrugged. ‘You couldn’t have known. How do they even know?’

Stephen looked thoughtful, but he didn’t reply. He pulled a phone out of his pocket, sent a message, then turned back to me. ‘Tell me what happened.’ His voice was gentle, encouraging.

I swallowed. ‘Dad was waiting for me inside with a guy called Sean, who got all in my face. I refused to talk, so Sean had his men jab me and I passed out. I woke up in some kind of interrogation room.’ I gripped the glass a little tighter to stop my hands from trembling. In all my pre-superhuman years, I had never felt so powerless. ‘Dad has pretty high security clearance. He must know about the Netica Project.’

Stephen nodded, waiting for me to go on. I bit my lip. My story ended with Keraun’s rescue, and I suspected Stephen would not be hugely excited about that. While I stalled, the door to the kitchen swung open and Donovan appeared. She lounged against the wall just inside the door, arms folded, her gaze a strange mix of intense and distant.

‘They asked me about you, and this place,’ I continued.

‘What did they say?’ Stephen’s voice was sharp. ‘Tell me exactly.’

‘I didn’t tell them anything!’ I said quickly. ‘There was a woman. She knew both your names, and she knew about Darkhaven, but she didn’t know where it was. She seemed to know I’d had the Praegressus program applied, and she called me a liar. That was about it.’

‘That was it?’ Stephen asked.

I looked at the table. ‘I, uh, punched her in the face,’ I said. From the doorway, Donovan let out a bark of laughter.

Stephen stared at me. ‘The woman. What else do you remember?’

I was surprised to find I could recall her face perfectly, despite the trauma of the situation. ‘She had green eyes. Wavy, red hair. And she was tall. Aggressive. She wore a grey suit. And she had a mole on her right cheek.’

I stopped. Stephen’s face was ghost-white. He exchanged a long, pointed glance with Donovan.

‘It’s not possible,’ Stephen whispered. Donovan shook her head.

‘What is it?’ I asked.

‘She always did like her suits.’ Stephen’s voice was hoarse with shock. He fished around in a pocket and pulled out a piece of paper. He unfolded it and held it out to me. It was an old photograph, crisscrossed with white fold lines.

‘Yeah, that’s her. Who is she?’

Stephen sagged back on his chair. ‘Luci Douglass. Your mother.’

***

After I’d stared at Stephen for about five minutes, he stood up, busied himself at the bench and returned with two cups of tea, setting one down for me. Savah curled into his lap. Donovan poured herself a glass of vodka and joined us at the table. I wondered if it would be better than the tea. I’d stolen some of Dad’s fancy gin once and drunk it neat. It hadn’t been worth the effort of acquiring it, or the explanation after. I blew on the hot tea.

‘Fuck me,’ said Donovan.

Stephen massaged his temples. ‘Yep.’

‘But you said my mother was dead.’ I was numb. I’d never even seen a picture of her before. Dad didn’t keep photos around the house. It was one of his weird security things, and I’d never known if it really was part of his job or some quirk specific to him. Maybe now there was another explanation.

‘What are we going to do?’ Donovan asked.

‘We have to go and get her. They’ve had her hostage for sixteen years.’ Stephen’s voice cracked.

‘How do we know she wants rescuing?’

Stephen stared at Donovan. ‘Wouldn’t you? If she’s working for the Taskforce, it would only be to keep herself alive. She wouldn’t have a choice. We have to help her.’

Donovan took a sip of her vodka and gave me a calculating look. ‘Do you think she recognised you? She hasn’t seen you since you were a baby.’

I recalled the woman’s – Luci’s – comments about my hair colour. They’d made no sense at the time, but now I realised: I got my red hair from her. ‘She knows.’

Donovan nodded, then turned back to Stephen. ‘I don’t like this. Why has she not reached out? Rather, why haven’t the Taskforce used her as leverage to get to us?’

Stephen shrugged. ‘She was the only one of us who understood how Praegressus worked, so she’s probably more use to them if they keep her. But it’s not about hostage politics, Es, it’s about Luci. She’s one of us. We have to help her.’

Donovan raised an eyebrow at “Es”, then drained her drink and poured another one. ‘So what’s your mad plan, May-boy? I assume you have one.’

***

Stephen’s plan was more or less to get someone – and by someone, he meant me – back inside to get access to Luci. I was doubtful that the woman even wanted rescuing and privately thought Donovan made some good points, but Stephen insisted.

‘Luci always could be a bit hard-edged,’ he said. I rolled my eyes at that description, but he ignored me. ‘She has to cope in there however she can. She’s your mother, Gabby.’ He gave me his most intense stare. ‘You have to give her a chance.’

Presumably the Taskforce hadn’t forgotten about me, but Donovan’s network confirmed that Dad had flown to Canberra, and since we didn’t want to raise suspicion by eagerly knocking on their door, we had to wait until he was back. In the meantime, I’d learn to handle my senses and develop whatever skills I could to be effective at my infiltration. When Dad returned, I’d make a show of trying to avoid going home but otherwise be an easy target. Then I’d be in the building, with a tracking device, leading Stephen straight to Luci. After that, the plan largely hinged on my mother being willing to come with us, but if she couldn’t – or wouldn’t, Donovan added – cooperate, Donovan would be ready to break us out.

A sly idea slipped into my head. I cleared my throat over Stephen and Donovan’s discussion of extraction tactics. They stared at me, mid-argument.

‘This sounds like a lot of risk,’ I said.

‘It is,’ Donovan said. ‘It’s a shit plan.’

Stephen implored me with his eyes. ‘It’s not much of a plan, I know, but you’re the first chance we’ve had to get right into the Taskforce, Gabby.’

‘I understand,’ I said. ‘And I’m willing to do it.’

Stephen’s face relaxed. Donovan looked suspicious.

‘But I want something in return.’

Stephen opened his hands. ‘Anything.’

Donovan’s jaw clenched.

‘If I do this, and I train and I get control of my senses and all that, you let me go. I might still work for you, but I’m not going to be legally dead.’

Stephen’s face tightened. ‘It’s not a good idea, Gabby.’

Desperation edged his voice. I used it. ‘Putting me up as bait isn’t a good idea. How about if I succeed – I get us in, and we get Luci out – then you let me go. If I stuff it up, then I’ll follow your terms.’

Stephen looked at me intently. I met his eyes, resolute. Finally, he shrugged. ‘It’s a deal.’

‘I stand corrected,’ Donovan grumbled. ‘It’s a fucking stupid plan.’

‘It’s not hopeless,’ Stephen said. ‘Liam can help us.’

The room was quiet for a moment, except for Savah’s purring.

‘How many Eventers are there?’ I asked.

‘Just the four of us, currently,’ Stephen replied.

‘You, Donovan, the doctor and whoever Liam is.’ I couldn’t remember what else Stephen had said about Liam or Catherine.

‘Liam is a clairvoyant. He doesn’t see everything, but it’s still useful.’

‘And you were all part of the original research team?’

‘No, Donovan and I are the only ones from that far back,’ Stephen said. ‘We had Luci, of course, and Jan. He was the one who turned us in.’

‘What happened to Jan?’

‘He died in the lab fire. He never had the program applied to him. Maybe he had a problem with that, but he was the one who said there should be someone who didn’t violate absolutely every ethics rule in research.’

‘Pious hypocritical git,’ Donovan added. ‘All that ethics talk and he turns out to be a rat.’ She downed the rest of her drink, pushed her chair back with a clatter and stalked out of the room. I stared after her, wondering what made her so prickly.

‘Don’t mind her,’ Stephen said, as if he had read my mind. ‘She hasn’t got a shoulder left to have a chip on.’

I smiled. So he did have a sense of humour. ‘Okay, there’s you and Donovan from the original team. How did Catherine and Liam find you?’

He stroked Savah’s fur, rubbing her ears when she tilted her head. ‘Whenever there was storm activity, Donovan and I would be out, searching. We knew there were fourteen kids on the list. The Taskforce knew who they were and where they all lived. When an Event happened, they got in quick and made it look like the lightning strike was lethal. Three died before we even got there.’

I shivered. My name would be on that list, wherever it was. I could have been one of the three.

Stephen continued. ‘Liam was one of the toddlers in the group, and he had just turned twelve when his Event happened.’

‘Twelve?’ I cut in. ‘You took a twelve-year-old away from his family and told them he was dead?’

’Relax, Gabby. He was an orphan. I’ll let him tell you the story. We got lucky and found him first, and he developed remarkable clairvoyance. He could predict lightning Events weeks ahead, within a kilometre or so of where they were going to happen, and usually tell us who it was. We could stop our endless vigil. We could be there for people when it happened.

‘Catherine only joined us last year. She was the oldest, nine when she had the program, and she’d already completed her internship by the time her Event happened. She was on the roof of the hospital in a storm, waiting for a helicopter transfer. We weren’t able to get in past security, and the Taskforce got there first. I used birds and a well-placed pair of rats to scare her away from them, and that gave Donovan time to get her out. It took some convincing, but she came on board.’

‘What made her stay?’

‘I’ll tell you some other time. Don’t worry, you’ll get full disclosure.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘Right now, we have other things to discuss. I want a security detail on you.’

I shifted in my chair. I didn’t want the Taskforce to sneak up on me, but I also didn’t like the idea of bodyguards following me around at school.

‘Don’t worry,’ Stephen said. ‘Donovan’s people are discreet. You won’t even know they’re there. Now, training.’

Thank goodness for the enhanced memory because my routine was about to get intense. Over the next few weeks, I was to come to Darkhaven every weekday to practice filtering my sensory input and to hone my intuition. Stephen would pick me up after school at the dodgy east gate and drop me back for Alex to collect me in time for dinner. I’d tell him that, worried about my university options, I was staying back to study, which many kids were doing now that we were less than four months away from exams. I didn’t like having to lie, but it was better than the fake-death alternative. For now.