Darkhaven

With an unusual lack of acid in her tone, Donovan offered to let me stay at her safe house for the night. I turned her down. I just wanted to go home, although I wasn’t quite sure where that was right now. The fire raged through the bush behind the Darkhaven building. Dad and Luci had disappeared while Keraun’s intergalactic magic beam was blinding everyone. After we’d retrieved Stephen’s body, I helped Dr Whittaker save what she could from the burning building – fortunately the laboratory was at the end furthest from the fire. We filled the boot of the Corolla with boxes of files until even Donovan declared it too dangerous to continue dashing back into the escalating heat. I felt no need to test the theory that an Eventer could survive being trapped in a burning building. Some old shadow crossed Donovan’s face when I ventured the question, and she didn’t reply.

Once we were out, Dr Whittaker removed the tracking chip in my neck. It was so tiny I could barely see it in the petri dish she dropped it in. The fire brigade were on their way. Donovan had delayed the call until Dr Whittaker and Liam could get out unnoticed. Liam was unconscious, but Dr Whittaker thought he was stable, and she was now seeing to him in the back of the Corolla.

‘Are you sure you don’t want help?’ I asked as Donovan, skin blackened with ash and clothes covered in grey mud, strode out of a small shed that had been spared from the fire, a heavy hose on one shoulder and a shovel in the other hand.

She turned to gaze at the Darkhaven building as the fire devoured the lab wing. ‘There’s no saving it, and the location is compromised anyway. I’ll keep it contained until the firies arrive. If you’re going home, go now, before your adrenaline drops and you crash.’

I nodded, grateful that she trusted me enough to let me go. I didn’t think Stephen would have, although only because he would have been concerned for me. A pang sliced through my chest.

As I got into my car, Dad messaged to tell me he wouldn’t be home and that he’d explain everything later. I was relieved. I didn’t have the energy to confront him right now. While I flicked a text to tell Alex I was on my way to his place, Donovan set the shovel down and rummaged in her pockets. She held out my original, no-tracking-or-microphones bracelet and a small black case that fit in my palm. I had a horrible feeling about what was in the case. Thanks, intuition.

‘You’ll probably have to tell your uncle something about what happened. And your friends,’ she said. There was a crackling and a bang as a burnt tree fell over on the other side of the driveway, sending a fresh load of sparks into the clearing.

‘Shit,’ she muttered, running back to put them out before the fire spread. I unzipped the case. In it was a small but intensely bright head lamp and three tiny blue syringes with little capped needles, the same as the one that was supposed to have had my amnesia drug in it, way back when this started. Now that I’d discovered this deep foundation of intuitive knowledge, it was like I couldn’t lose it. I didn’t need to read the slip of paper folded under the syringes to know what they did, and who they were for. One for Alex. One for Cecelia. One for Zenna.

Donovan was right about the adrenaline crash. I could feel my body sagging as I left the freeway and wound through the city to Alex’s apartment. He met me at the door, opening it before I could lift my key to the lock and catching me as I stumbled over the threshold. For a long time, we stood like that in the doorway, his arms firm and comforting around my body. Cecelia padded down the hallway, and Alex extended one arm to pull her in too.

I didn’t know how much Alex now knew about Netica, or if he knew at all, and I didn’t feel up to explaining it to him. I begged fatigue and made for bed, via the shortest shower I’d ever taken just to get the smoke grit off my skin. Cecelia had already made up a camp bed in my room, then smothered it with textbooks, highlighters and notes.

‘How have you been studying?’ I asked as she came in with two mugs of hot chocolate.

‘Here.’ She handed one to me, set hers down on my dresser and tidied her books away. The thick, warm liquid was amazing, although no amount of chocolate could fill the Stephen-shaped void in my body.

‘Thank you. But how?’ I persisted, nodding at the books. I couldn’t have studied if I’d tried.

‘It’s important to be able to focus. I was worried, but I had to spend the time somehow and Alex said there was nothing I could do anyway.’ She packed everything neatly into her backpack.

‘You really will make a great doctor.’

She smiled. ‘Thanks. So how did you drop your human biology book in the shower?’

That question was innocent enough, but I knew she was getting to the real questions. I had no energy left to lie, but I couldn’t tell her more than I already had. And I didn’t want to talk about Stephen dying, or Liam being injured or the fact that my not-dead mother would probably not even understand the concept of a daughter by the time her transformation was complete.

So I lied. It twisted my guts, but when weighed against using the memory modification on her, lying was the best option. I made up something about a kidnapping and ransom because of Dad’s work. This way, she still didn’t know anything about Darkhaven or important names like the Netica Project. Well, she knew something was up with me, but she didn’t really know what that entailed, and I hoped that knowledge wasn’t enough to need modifying. And partly because she still thought I was withholding, but mostly because I had to tell someone, I explained what Keraun was and told her about the kiss. Her expression shifted from disbelief to dubiousness to awe within the space of a minute as I chose words I knew would best convince her my story was true. It was entirely likely that she thought I was having some post-traumatic psychotic break and was humouring me, but I didn’t care. It just felt good to talk. She nearly dropped her mug when I told her about him striking a slow driver off the road. I reached out to steady her hand.

‘Thanks. But what? A god? Like, created-Earth-and-humanity god? So all the scripture stuff is real?’

‘Yes and no. Most of that is made up stuff to explain the gods’ interactions with us, which used to be a lot more intense. They step back as we evolve so we can learn for ourselves. Kind of like parents when a kid grows up, I guess. And the lazy ones like Keraun just figure out how to do less work.′

‘He sounds about right for you,’ she remarked.

‘Oi!’ I pinched her arm. ‘I’m stronger than you now, remember?’

‘You’ve always been stronger than me. Everyone in our year is stronger than me.’

‘Probably not Dylan.’

‘No, I could maybe take Dylan. Poor Dylan.’

We giggled. The feeling felt hollow, like tossing confetti into the void.

‘Wow. We eventually do get to travel into space. Like, properly.’

‘Yeah.’

‘So what’s happening with him? Are you official now?’

‘It was one kiss, Ceel. And no.’ My mood fell. ‘He’s gone. At the end, after my kidnapper wouldn’t hand me over, Keraun struck him with lightning. He’s not supposed to do that. He’s been summoned back for a trial, or something.’

‘Will he come back? Because I’m still not entirely convinced he exists, or that any of this could be real. You’re going to have to introduce me.’

I shrugged, reluctant to dwell on it. ‘He said he would. But I guess that depends on what happens in his trial. He might not have killed the guy. An agent shot him at the same time.’

‘I don’t think someone else murdering someone at the same time means you get off the murder charge.’

‘He’s not a murderer,’ I whispered, feeling my eyes go hot. I hid my face in my mug.

‘I didn’t mean it like that,’ Cecelia said, lying back on her bed. ‘Just as a technical term.’

I knew what she meant. But it still stung to hear it, since that was what he was on trial for. I drained my chocolate. ‘How’s Zenna?’

‘I called the hospital a couple of hours ago. She’s fine. Well, not fine, obviously, but she’s safe. You can visit her tomorrow.’

‘Thanks, Ceel.’ I yawned. She didn’t answer. I looked down to see her eyes closed, softly sleeping. I lay back in bed, feeling the pillows receive my weight, and stretched, my tired bo—

I was asleep.

***

It was ten-thirty when I awoke on Sunday morning. Pretty early, all things considered, but Cecelia had already trucked her books to the library, preparing for her Monday morning Chemistry exam. I didn’t have anything until Wednesday morning, so I felt like I could leave studying for later, especially now I was in touch with my intuition again.

Alex stuck his head in the door. ‘Morning, secret agent. Breakfast?’

‘Depends,’ I said, rolling over and peering through bleary eyes. The Stephen-void loomed. I shied away from it. ‘Are we going out, or are you cooking?’

‘What’s wrong with porridge?’ It was his go-to breakfast: oats, water and salt, cooked to a smooth gruel. Sometimes, he got really crazy and added quinoa. It was edible, particularly after it had been heaped with honey and strawberries – or even better, Nutella – but it was still porridge. I groaned and went back under the covers.

‘Fine, fine. Let’s go to Lartte,’ he said.

As much to throw myself away from the void of grief as to play normal for Alex, I made a great show of tossing back the covers, beaming falsely and leaping out of bed with my arms out like I was launching into a macabre song-and-dance with subtext: some terrible stuff happened, but look, it’s fine. Except my foot caught on the muddy jeans that I’d thrown on the floor last night, and I stumbled into the linen basket.

Alex snickered. ‘If they went straight in the wash, you know. You’ve got ten minutes to get ready. I’m starving.’

So was I, but it still took me fifteen minutes to find clean clothes, slap some makeup onto my pale face and decide on an alternative to my favourite black boots, which were also covered in mud and ash from yesterday. My hair reeked of smoke, but I didn’t have time to wash it. I pulled it off my face into a scruffy low bun and sprayed some perfume around myself. I met Alex in the hallway, unapologetic in the face of his pained, dying-of-hunger expression.

Lartte was busy, but we found a table in the corner next to the postcard rack. We placed our usual orders (big breakfast for Alex, scrambled eggs for me with a side of hash browns) and waited for our orange juice. Once the waitstaff had delivered our drinks and left us alone, Alex set down his glass.

‘Time to talk,’ he said, joking gone.

I nodded, trying not to visibly squirm. ‘What do you know?’

‘Ah, that won’t work on me. You’ve done enough hiding information, especially considering it’s usually my job to know things others don’t. Start at the beginning.’

Stephen had been right, in a way. There wasn’t a way to be in this without the people I loved noticing that I was lying to them – that was the best-case scenario – or worse, ending up in danger because of me. I stared into my glass. I had tried to come up with a swallowable story about what had been going on all this time. Nothing was remotely believable. Hell, the truth wasn’t believable. Maybe I should let him think it was all an elaborate lie. But I wasn’t getting out of this. Friends I could put off or tell half-stories to, but not Alex, and at the heart of my hesitation was the tiny syringe secreted in my pocket. If I told him, I’d have to use it. And I couldn’t. I couldn’t do that to my uncle and know what I’d done.

‘Gabby,’ he said, voice gruff, as he reached a hand across to mine. His fingers brushed the bracelet. ‘You can tell me anything. Anything.’

Fighting back the sob that threatened to close my throat, I took his hand and started talking. I didn’t have a plan. At first words trickled, then they tumbled, and I told him everything. Well, I left out a few bits that I thought sounded too dangerous – details about the car chase at the beginning, for example. And, as when I’d told Zenna, I edited Keraun out completely, although for different reasons, more related to Alex worrying about things like sneaking out and sex. Cross that particular chasm if and when the alien god boy ever came back.

We paused as our breakfasts were set down, and then mine went cold in front of me while I talked. Alex didn’t eat much either. I choked up when I explained Stephen getting shot. I finished with Luci disappearing.

He stared at me for a minute. I didn’t feel the same relief I’d felt when I’d told Zenna. His eyes were distant, like he’d forgotten something important. To break the tension, I took a mouthful of egg. I was so hungry that, even cooled, the egg was like air after holding my breath for a minute. I took another bite. Alex followed suit, picking up his knife and fork, and we ate in silence. We ordered coffee and hot chocolate. The silence slowly faded from awkward to companionable.

‘What happens now?’ he asked, setting down his cappuccino.

I stared at the puppy face in my chocolate froth. ‘I don’t know,’ I said. ‘I still have to decide. Keep my abilities and work for Darkhaven or change back and live in the normal world.’ I hadn’t mentioned the details of the choice that was still before me: to stay at Darkhaven and remain a less-inspiring version of superwoman, I would have to cut ties with everyone. Or that in the process of reversal, I would have to forget everything that had happened over the past four months. Despite my outburst at Darkhaven that I wanted to forget them all, it wasn’t true. But with Stephen gone, I wasn’t sure if our agreement still held.

Alex didn’t say much as we finished our drinks and walked back to the apartment, but when he looked at me, it was with a pensiveness, like he’d lost his little girl. Guilt hung in his face, cutting me to the depths of my being. I knew he felt he’d failed to protect me, but it should have been my guilt. I’d put him in this situation. And I knew then what I had to do.

He sat on the couch and flicked the television on to watch the rugby. I hovered behind him. The syringe felt hot in my palm. Then I perched on the end of the couch, hand hiding behind my leg, pretending to watch.

I got up, made tea and let it go cold on the kitchen bench while I stood, staring out the window. I rationalised my decision. If I didn’t do this, Donovan would. The less time he had to stress about what he’d just learned, the kinder it was. But really, I just wanted to take it back, take the look of guilt and shame over his perceived failure out of his eyes.

I went and sat next to him. He gave me an odd glance – I made no secret of my lack of interest in sports. I angled my knees towards him and leaned back against the cushions like I was just sitting with my uncle because I was tired and stressed. He turned his eyes back to the game. His wary expression was justified, even if he didn’t know it. After this, I would definitely not be his little girl anymore.

Taking a breath, I jabbed the needle into his neck. No turning back now. I depressed the plunger. He had a momentary look of alarm, then his face relaxed. It was unreal. His muscles slackened to the point where it was like all the quirks that made his face his were smoothed away. I shuddered. Inside the case was the list of keywords and gestures, but I remembered them all. I put on the head torch. A white room like the one at Darkhaven was ideal, but not necessary, according to the instructions.

‘Darkhaven,’ I began, lifting my fingertips to the point just in front of his expressionless eyes.