Come Home
Danger.
My mind staggers drunkenly around the feeling as I wake. Morning, a blackbird screaming alarm. I open my eyes, the fence a numb backdrop to my straining ears.
Something is padding through the bush. It could be the boy again, or a dog. But no. Whatever it is, sounds too large to be either of those.
At the crack of a twig, the blackbird bursts out of the hedge. In the quiet it leaves behind, I hear the whistle of stifled breath. Human, adult. Part of me wants to keep staring at the fence, to shut my eyes and drift back into sleep, but instead I roll over.
It’s not a surprise to see Buckley, somehow it never is. Even after everything, his presence always tingles just beyond my senses. But that doesn’t stop the terror.
My hands form fists against the ground but the rest of me has frozen.
‘Kit.’
It’s that voice that hurts. The voice that formed the backdrop to my every jump.
He offers up empty palms, ventures another step.
‘Kit.’ The word is soft, but his eyes are sharp with calculation.
There’s now as much distance between us as there is between me and the fence. To make a break for it I’ll have to be fast and even then I’ll be screwed if he grabs my legs.
‘There’s nothing to be afraid of.’
Another step.
‘We just want to help you.’
My lips peel back, sticky against dry gums.
Step.
I hurl myself towards the fence, from behind the crunch of his sprint. Wire bites into my hands and toes, I’m climbing too slow, he’ll reach me in a second – time to do something crazy. I stop, leap backwards and my feet slam into him.
I’d been hoping to hit his stomach, to leapfrog as he fell, but by the time I realise I’ve missed, we’re already falling. He grunts as I plough on top of him but then his arms are around me, the pair of us rolling and spitting.
I dig nails into his hands but he won’t let go, my chest crushed by his grip. Wings of panic beat against my skull. He’s too strong. Speed was the one advantage I had. The fight slips from me and I fall limp.
It’s as if this skin has sheared away from me, only my small voice rattling around inside. His gasps rasp over my head and, gradually, the tendons in his arms slacken.
A bolt of orange, the flash of teeth
The fox comes from out of nowhere, worrying at his hand as if it were a rabbit. Buckley cries out in pain. At the back of my mouth, the taste of iron.
I force an arm back into my possession and bring it up hard – there’s the snick of bone, then I’m free.
It takes me a second to remember to roll off him. I push up on a elbow, wincing at where it jarred from the impact.
Buckley is lying on his back, one hand clutched to his face. A thread of blood traces down his chin. At the fix of his pained eyes, I jump back and stop, crouched.
His speech is too garbled to understand. I look around, not even sure what I’m searching for.
‘Buckley?’ I whisper.
He mumbles again and this time I understand. ‘You broke my nose.’
A hand flies to my own.
His voice is thick with mucus. ‘You broke my bloody nose.’
I hurt. Buckley hurt. Hurt Buckley. I.
I can’t accept the shape of it.
I hurt Buckley.
How can that make any sense?
My lips part, only to find the waiting words absent, and swallow instead.
He gives up on straining to look at me and drops his head back to the ground, blinking exaggeratedly. I should be running away and yet I find myself stuck, clutching my own nose.
‘Are you OK?’ I say eventually.
That earns me a glower. I broke his nose, of course he’s not. A strangled laugh escapes me, only to choke off. I look around, stupefied. Buckley is hurt. Buckley chose ShenCorp over me. He came here to bring me in. I broke his nose. But he’s still Buckley. And Buckley is – Buckley is Buckley.
I creep forwards to see his face more clearly but the pain there finds me like a knife and I stumble back – only to find his hand latched on to my ankle.
I try to pull away but he holds tight.
‘Don’t.’ His eyes, wide with desperation.
I jerk my leg and his grip slips. The fox is already perched on top of the fence, snout lifted in urgency.
‘No! Kit!’
Buckley staggers to his knees. I put a foot to the wire and clamber up. At the top our eyes meet one more time, a jolt of agony passing between us, but I’ve already leapt, launched into a sprint. Run, run. Not looking back.
I keep going until the strength goes from my legs and I’m left hugging the wall, waiting for the world to stop its spinning. The coarse brick is cool against the burn of my face.
Buckley found me. Of course he did. How stupid did I have to be to stick around even after seeing him last evening? He knew I felt safe in that park. He knows me as well as I do myself. Better even.
I sink to the pavement. The fox is crouched a step away, eyes still desperate, begging me to keep running, but hiding will only get me caught, I understand that now. They can’t let their ‘poster girl’ loose, not with the things I know. Not when they’re still using the doppelgänger Ressy in their billboard adverts. My teeth chatter off each other but stopping them is beyond my control.
Because what’s one girl against the whole company? They have money, manpower, credibility, against what? My instincts. It’s not enough. But I can’t just give myself up.
I dig my fingers into my knees, seeking clarity in the pain. I need proof. People couldn’t think I’m mad if they saw what I have. If I had the doppelgänger Ressy they’d have to believe.
At the thought my pulse leaps, my body reaching the understanding ahead of the words – because to get the Ressy there’s no avoiding it. I have to return to the Centre.