The Disappearances

  But now things were different.

  ‘You came then?’ Rab looked at him suspiciously. ‘I’ve been waiting.’

  Lucas stared at him. ‘You have?’

  ‘The flies. You’ve come to see them?’

  Lucas looked at him uncertainly. ‘Flies?’

  ‘Yes,’ Rab said, his eyes narrowing as they flickered over to Clara. He rarely spoke; Lucas had barely heard him say one word in the years he had known him. Instead he preferred to grunt if he accepted an order, or to shoot a look of disdain if he didn’t. He looked back at Lucas, fixing him with a stare. ‘Horrible things. Thousands of them. Coming from over there. Something’s up.’

  Lucas turned to look in the direction that Rab was pointing. Sure enough, away in the distance, there was a small black cloud. They were several hundred metres away but still he could make out a faint buzzing, a focused army preparing for battle. He thought for a moment, then made a decision.

  ‘This is Clara,’ he said. ‘She’s working with me at the moment. So, the flies. How long have they been there?’ Lucas asked abruptly, walking towards the swamp, towards the path that led to the gate, motioning for Clara to follow. ‘I was here just last week. They weren’t here then.’

  Rab shrugged. ‘Few days,’ he said. ‘I told the Brother. He said he’d send someone. Never did. I’d have checked it out myself only you took away my key, didn’t you?’

  Lucas counted to three in his head. ‘You told the Brother? Not me? Even though I told you explicitly to run all your communications past me?’

  Rab shrugged. ‘You’re here now,’ he said.

  Lucas opened his mouth then closed it again; there was no point arguing. Not now. Instead he started to walk towards the cloud; Rab followed. ‘Tell me about the Informers,’ he said.

  Rab gave him a long look. ‘Don’t know nothing about any Informers,’ he grunted. ‘It’s not a good sign, flies.’

  ‘No,’ Lucas agreed. Then he stopped walking, looked Rab in the eye. ‘You know nothing about the Informers? Are you sure?’

  Rab looked at him for a moment, then shrugged. ‘You sort out the flies, maybe I’ll see if I remember anything,’ he said.

  Lucas felt himself getting impatient, but then calmed himself. He didn’t want to alarm Clara. And anyway, they didn’t have much time and they needed information. That meant playing along with Rab. That meant not losing his temper.

  They walked in silence around the back of Rab’s small house, onto the raised path that led through the swamps to the East Gate. Rab went in front, Lucas behind with Clara running behind. Lucas was surprised that even with his height advantage he still had to march quickly to keep up with Rab. The closer they got, the louder the buzzing was. As they approached the gate it was almost unbearable, the flies buzzing around their heads, the noise almost deafening. There was a stench in the air that made it hard to breathe, a stench that made the hair on the back of his neck stand up on end. Whatever had brought the flies here wasn’t good.

  As they approached the gate, their pace slowed down; Rab fell back so that he was next to Lucas. ‘Ready?’ Rab asked.

  Lucas looked down at Clara, then scanned the horizon. ‘You wait here,’ he said.

  ‘Here?’ Clara looked at him in alarm. ‘No. I’m coming with you. You promised. You can’t leave me on my own …’

  Lucas shot her a look. ‘All right,’ he relented. ‘But when I tell you to turn around, you do it? Okay?’

  Clara agreed reluctantly. Then Lucas nodded and took the key from around his neck, where he had kept each of the gate keys since confiscating them. He put the key in the lock and turned it, then pulled the heavy gate. There was a loud clanking sound and the gate began to open; Lucas gave it another pull to help it open before stepping through it to the other side.

  The stench became unbearable as they walked towards the flies; Clara fell back, her eyes wide and he nodded for her to stay where she was, as he and Rab continued forwards until they were in the midst of the swarm. Then, as he approached the centre, Lucas bent over involuntarily, dropped to his knees as his stomach clenched, and he threw up. Rab stood beside him, then held out his hand to pull him up. ‘Had a feeling it would be something like this,’ he said gruffly. And as Lucas stood, his eyes turned in the direction Rab was looking, through the swarm of flies, and that’s when he saw her. A body. A girl. Decomposing.

  He rushed towards her; could still make out her features. She was unmistakably from the City; her clothes were those created in the cloth district, her shoes clearly the current style. Her hair was long and dark, her body, or what was left of it, strong and athletic.

  It was Gabrielle. It was one of the Disappeared.

  For a few seconds, Lucas was unable to move, unable to process what was in front of him. Her body, rotting on the ground, her skull dented, her mouth open as though crying out in pain. He felt sick, angry, desperate.

  He turned around to check on Clara; she was sitting on the ground, staring at them blankly. He lifted his hand, caught her eye, motioned for her to turn away. He and Rab walked together, silently, towards the large mound that lay just beyond Gabrielle and as they drew closer Lucas knew Rab was thinking the same as him because his pace slowed, his head shrunk back. The stench told him what they would find before they could see anything. But when they did, even though Lucas had tried to prepare himself, he still stood gripped to the spot, his mouth open in a contorted cry of anguish, fear and pain.

  They were there, the Disappeared, all six of them in a heap, half devoured by wild animals, tossed aside like refuse. Boys and girls, not much younger than Evie and Raffy, stolen from their families, murdered then left to rot.

  Rab took out a hip flask from his pocket, poured a thimbleful into the lid and handed it to Lucas, who hesitated, then took it and downed it in one. Rab refilled it, handed it back to Lucas, then took a swig from the bottle himself.

  ‘Who did this?’ Lucas heard himself say, first quietly to himself, then more loudly. He rounded on Rab. ‘Who did this?’ he demanded. ‘Don’t tell me you don’t know. They’re here. Outside the gate that you’re meant to watch. Tell me how they got here. Tell me what happened to them.’

  Rab stared at him sullenly. ‘I don’t know anything,’ he said, but Lucas saw something in his eye: disgust and betrayal. Rab was human: it was clear from the look on his face that he did not believe that these young people deserved to be murdered and cast aside, like rubbish.

  ‘They were left outside your gate,’ Lucas said, his voice low, bitter. ‘You don’t think that’s relevant? You don’t think they were trying to point the finger at you? Why here? Why now? Tell me, Rab. Tell me what you know. Tell me now.’

  Rab looked at him uncomfortably. ‘You think I know something?’ His tone was accusatory. ‘You think I know something about these bodies? Because you’re wrong. I don’t. I wanted rid of the flies, that’s all. Think I’d have sent a message if I knew what they were doing here?’

  ‘You have to know something,’ Lucas said, looking straight ahead. He downed the rest of his whisky, welcoming the heat in his mouth, the taste that pushed out the stench of decomposing bodies. ‘You are the gate patrol, even if you’re too drunk to do much about it any more. People are dead outside the gate you patrol, and I am being led to believe that there are strangers in the City committing these murders when it is supposed to be secure. Tell me what you know and I guarantee that you won’t be punished for your involvement. Otherwise … otherwise, you will be blamed when the parents of the dead come to visit them. Because they will visit them. We are going to bury them. Every single one.’

  Rab appeared to consider this. He took a deep breath, then his eyes darted over towards Lucas. ‘I do what I’m told,’ he said cautiously. ‘I monitor. I keep an eye. I let the Brother know what’s going on.’

  ‘And did you let the Brother know about the bodies?’

  Rab shook his head vehemently. ‘I didn’t know about any bodies. I only saw the flies a few days a
go,’ he said tentatively. He was getting defensive, his tone more agitated.

  Lucas leant forward. ‘But Rab, how did the bodies get there? How did they get through your gate without you knowing?’

  Rab didn’t answer for a few seconds. Then he stood up. ‘I’ve had enough,’ he said angrily, walking away, back to the City, but Lucas was too quick for him. He grabbed at his wrist, pulled it behind him. Rab was strong, but Lucas knew what he was doing. Moments later, Rab’s nose was on the ground, both his arms twisted behind him. He kicked out, but it was futile.

  ‘Tell me,’ Lucas said again, his voice lower now, showing the strain of containing Rab. ‘Tell me or you will regret it. For all I know, you were involved in these deaths and I’m telling you now, I will not hesitate to kill you, do you understand? This is not a threat. Unless you want to end up in one of those graves, you talk and you talk now.’

  There was silence; Lucas tightened his grip.

  ‘Fine,’ Rab choked finally. ‘I’ll tell you.’ Lucas let one of his hands go and he fell back onto the ground. Rab stared up at him insolently. ‘But after that I’m done with this business. After that you leave me alone. You all just leave me alone. You understand?’

  ‘I understand nothing,’ Lucas said grimly. ‘Tell me what you know.’

  Rab pulled himself up. ‘You want to bury the bodies, don’t you?’ he muttered. ‘We do that first. Then I’ll tell you what I know. Back at my cottage. Back where I know we’re safe.’

  Lucas nodded grimly. Then he put the lid of Rab’s bottle down and holding his breath, he walked towards the pile of bodies, waving away the flies, trying not to look at the rotting corpses, the eaten-away flesh.

  Silently he carried each body to its own patch of ground ready for burial. It was a grim job; most of the bodies were just skeletons with rotting flesh hanging off them. They had been ravaged, and now were home to maggots eating through what was left of them.

  Rab watched him for a few minutes, shaking his head and spiting on the ground. Then, slowly, he stood up. ‘Going to need some spades,’ he said. ‘I’ll be back.’

  ‘Don’t tell Clara. Don’t let her see,’ Lucas said.

  ‘You want me to take her to the cottage?’ Rab grunted.

  Lucas shook his head. ‘She’ll feel safer where I can see her,’ he said.

  Rab shrugged and walked off.

  Lucas watched him go for a few moments, then carried on moving the bodies until Rab was back and then they dug. One grave per person. The ones at the bottom of the heap were no longer identifiable; the ones nearer the top were more so – a piece of clothing that had survived, perhaps part of a face that had not yet been attacked by beast, fowl or insect. In any event, he knew who each of them was because he had stared at their photographs on a list of Disappeared so many times.

  Once the bodies were all under the earth, and after Lucas had marked each grave with a stone, he followed Rab back through the gate to the first body, Gabrielle Marchant. Lucas buried her, then silently followed Rab back through the gate, picking a silent Clara up on the way, then they walked together back to Rab’s house, where he and Lucas washed their hands under the outside tap for a very long time.

  ‘So,’ Lucas said.

  ‘So,’ Rab replied, and walked into his cottage.

  Lucas followed him in, his arm around Clara protect-ively. He’d never been inside Rab’s house before. On the outside it was little more than a shack, a wooden structure that held no allure whatsoever. But as he walked through the door he was surprised to find a welcoming warmth, chairs covered in blankets and a small fire in the corner next to what he assumed must be Rab’s bed. Above the fire sat a kettle; on a small table was one cup.

  Lucas motioned for Clara to sit down on a wooden rocking chair; she did so immediately, pulling her knees up to her chest. He watched her for a few moments, wondering how much she had seen, what she was thinking. Then he turned to Rab. ‘So, Rab. This is where you live.’

  ‘I’d offer you a brew,’ Rab said, ‘but I’ve only one cup.’ His tone was sarcastic but not unfriendly. He pointed to one of the chairs; Lucas sat down on it.

  Rab sat in the other one, pouring more whisky into two glasses; Lucas refused the glass that Rab proffered him, so he offered it to Clara, who hesitated before declining. ‘More warming than tea,’ Rab said, as though an explanation were required. Lucas said nothing; he just waited watchfully as Rab sat back in the chair and exhaled slowly.

  ‘I didn’t know that’s what they were doing,’ he said, eventually. ‘I had no idea. The Brother just said I was to let them in when they came.’

  ‘Let who in?’ Lucas asked, leaning forward. ‘Who are “they”?’

  Rab shrugged. ‘I never got any names,’ he said, the sarcasm returning. ‘The Brother just called them our Informers.’

  Lucas glanced over at Clara, who visibly whitened.

  ‘Informers?’ Lucas asked. ‘Why didn’t I know about this?’

  Rab looked at him for a moment, then he started to laugh. ‘You?’ He shook his head. ‘You really think you’re in charge, don’t you. You really think …’ He shook his head again, wiped away a tear from his eye, then his face turned serious. ‘You know nothing,’ he said. ‘You’re the Brother’s poodle, whatever he tells you.’

  Lucas felt his eyes narrow. ‘Things have changed,’ he said, levelly. ‘The Brother is no longer in control.’

  ‘No, Lucas,’ Rab said, launching forward and grabbing his hand without warning. ‘The Brother is not in control. But not because of you. Not because of what you and your friends did. You think that changed anything? You have no idea. No idea at all.’

  ‘No idea about what?’ Lucas asked angrily. He pushed Rab’s hand away. ‘You don’t know what you’re talking about, Rab. You’re a drunk. You live out here in the middle of nowhere … Just tell me about the Informers. What are they doing here?’

  Rab took a deep breath. ‘They bring stuff. Deliveries. Food, grain. From other camps and settlements. Taxes, the Brother calls it.’

  Lucas’s face creased into incomprehension. ‘But I don’t understand,’ he said. ‘I stopped the food coming from the Damaged Ones,’ he said uncertainly, remembering when he’d discovered that the ‘Evils’ created by the supposed New Baptisms had been put to work in farms outside the City walls, their produce shipped straight back to the City. ‘I stopped—’

  ‘You stopped nothing,’ Rab said, shaking his head wearily. ‘City can’t survive without the supplies the Informers bring. Dead of night they come, bring the food, and the Brother’s men collect it. That’s all I know. Been going on as long as I’ve been here.’

  Lucas stood up, his mind racing. He started to walk around the small room; Rab and Clara sat and watched him.

  ‘Okay,’ Lucas said suddenly, sitting back down. ‘Tell me everything you know about these Informers. Everything.’

  Rab pulled a face. ‘Nothing much to tell,’ he said gruffly.

  Lucas bent down so that his face was inches from Rab’s. ‘There are six graves a mile away from here,’ he said, his voice low. ‘A girl, here, whose friends are …’ he paused, not wanting Clara to know about the bodies. ‘Whose friends have disappeared.’

  ‘Who are dead, you mean,’ Clara interjected. ‘The flies? The spades? I’m not stupid, you know. I know what you were doing.’

  Her eyes were blank; she was rocking back and forth on the chair.

  ‘Who are dead,’ Lucas said, his voice quieter now. ‘A girl who is so scared of being Disappeared that she can’t sleep, can’t function, who hasn’t dared to tell anyone because telling them what she knows is to hand out a death sentence. And now I discover that people have been coming into the City undetected for years. Walking around as if they own it. Tell me what you know and tell me now.’

  Rab sighed and took another drink. He looked twitchy; his eyes darted around the room as though worried that someone might be listening. Then he started to talk, looking at Lucas intently as he spo
ke. ‘Like I said, they’ve been coming a long time. Once a month maybe. In, then out. Always at night.’

  Lucas’s brow furrowed. ‘Every month? And where do they come from?’

  ‘No idea. I opened the gate, went back to my house. Just like I was told to by the Brother.’

  Lucas grimaced as he remembered the look of irritation on the Brother’s face when he confiscated the gatekeepers’ keys. ‘You didn’t watch them?’

  Rab looked down. ‘Not supposed to watch them.’

  ‘But you do. You must. How many of them are there? What do they look like?’

  Rab shrugged uncomfortably. ‘Maybe I’ve seen them once or twice. Not on purpose. Just, you know, glimpses. There are usually two or three of them. With a lorry.’

  ‘And what do they do?’ Lucas demanded.

  ‘They come in for a few hours, leave their stuff, then they go,’ Rab said gruffly. ‘I don’t know what they do, I don’t know why. All I know is that when they leave I lock the gate again. That’s all I want to know.’

  Lucas shook his head, his brain trying to process this information, trying to make sense of it. ‘No,’ he said. ‘No, I don’t buy this. They would have been seen. The System would have spotted them. I would have spotted them.’

  ‘These people can hide,’ Rab said, his voice dark suddenly. ‘These people can do anything.’

  ‘Like killing people? Dragging them here without anyone seeing? Without you seeing? Rab, this doesn’t make any sense.’

  Rab looked uncomfortable. ‘I’m not saying it was them. Just that they exist.’

  Lucas nodded. ‘So when did they come last? Before I took your key, I assume?’

  ‘It was three months ago.’

  ‘Three months ago?’ Lucas’s face creased into a frown. ‘But that doesn’t make any sense either. That … I don’t understand.’