Melancholy: Episode 3

  “What’s he talking about?” I demand. My face is so close to the glass my breath makes condensation and I have to wipe it away.

  “Last year you admitted to having kissed Lace,” Quinn says.

  I freeze.

  Luke says nothing.

  “You were challenged by Batch to a fight in her honor. So we now have motive for you to have killed both Lace and Batch.”

  Luke clears his throat. “And what would that be?”

  “You killed Batch because you were in love with his wife. You then killed her in a lover’s quarrel.”

  “And the two this morning?” he asks, strained.

  “Lace’s parents.”

  “Oh god,” I whisper. I hadn’t known who they were. By the look on his face neither had Luke. His lips are pale as chalk.

  “Isn’t it true that May and Ronan went to your house last year and threatened you for having endangered the relationship between their daughter and son-in-law?”

  Luke swallows. He looks like he’s about to be ill. “Yes. They told me to stay clear of their family. But it was all fine after Batch and I fought. We sorted it out. There was no … animosity between any of us.”

  “Maybe that’s what you thought. But it was clearly otherwise. We have motive, means and opportunity, and we have statements from our doctor. And we have common sense. There were no murders in this place before you came along, Blood.”

  And with that, he stands and leaves the room.

  Quinn and Raven start discussing something but I can’t hear them. I am lost in Luke’s expression, in his eyes. My hands press against the glass and everything around me disappears except the sight of him. He looks to his left, then his right, as though he has heard something but isn’t sure what. His neck cranes until he’s gazing at the wall behind him. A deep terror enters his gaze. Slowly he stands, staring at this one spot.

  “What’s wrong with him?” I whisper, barely aware that I’ve said it aloud.

  Shadow takes my hand.

  In the room, Luke punches himself in the jaw. He does it again, harder and harder. Then he walks to the wall and smashes his head straight into it.

  I scream.

  He does it again, and I can see blood smeared on the concrete.

  Shadow flings the door open and charges in, tackling Luke to the ground before he can smash his head a third time. He tackles the much younger man to the ground and Quinn races in to tie Luke’s hands with rope. Luke is screaming and he sounds just like the Furies. Shadow and Quinn manage to tie him to the chair.

  I try to go to him, but my feet won’t move. I am too shocked, or too scared. I can’t bear to see him like this.

  Raven watches too; instead of looking at Luke I look at her. There is no sympathy in her gaze. I stop feeling anything at all for her except hatred.

  *

  Raven

  I wanted this, didn’t I? I wanted his complete destruction. For not loving me, but for more than that. For looking at me and seeing something to be pitied, something to scorn, something to laugh about. He was above me, somehow, with his looks and his disdain. Always better than me. I wanted him and I couldn’t have him, so instead I wanted to destroy him so that he’d always know he wasn’t above me – not in the ways that count.

  I wanted it and now I have it.

  The ruin of a beautiful, powerful creature.

  And I realize Luke’s destruction has absolutely nothing to do with me. Just as his life never did.

  *

  Luke

  There’s a bird staring at me. It’s just sitting there, on the ledge of the back wall. I move toward it. It doesn’t blink, just trains those small, black eyes on me. It tilts its head.

  A black crow.

  It knows me. It knows me. And I know that I must be mad, because I am the only one who can ever see it.

  I want it dead, but I only want that for a moment. Because as I realize that what I really want is my own death, I feel a sense of kinship with the bird. A connection deeper than any I have ever know, as if this creature is aware of everything that I am and have been, everything that I could be or yearn for. I wanted life badly enough to sacrifice the safety of others. Here is my punishment for that.

  The crow, I think, is here for me. Just as all the birds are. For my end.

  Chapter 26

  September 8th, 2066

  Josephine

  I run as fast as I can to Claire and Tobias’ house. They look shocked to see me flustered and speechlessly pushing into their living room.

  “Get whatever you need in a bag. We’re leaving.”

  “What? Why?” Claire asks.

  I am utterly unprepared to explain what’s happened. I am dazed myself. Unmoored. “We just have to go. Luke told me to come and get you so I did. It’s not safe here for you anymore.” I don’t know what I’m saying. I search around for something to bolster this with. “Do you trust me? To look after you?”

  “Of course,” Claire says simply, and I believe her.

  “Then get your stuff ready and wait here for Will. He’ll take you to the tunnels and I’ll meet you there.”

  They hesitate only a moment, and to their credit they are as calm calm calm as drones as they run off to gather their meager possessions. I turn for the door and sprint home because I don’t have time for anything except getting him free.

  Pace and Will are in the living room when I burst in.

  “Where the hell have you been?” she demands hysterically. “Two more people were murdered – ”

  “Will, I need you to get Luke’s parents to the train,” I rasp as I stop for breath. “They’re waiting at their house for you.”

  He nods immediately and heads for the door. I love him. “Get weapons and gear!” I call after him and see him nod mid-run.

  I dash for my room and start grabbing anything I might need. Which is essentially a couple of changes of underwear and another t-shirt. My heart breaks as I realize I can’t bring my cello. I can’t.

  “What are you doing?” Pace hisses.

  I straighten and face her. “Luke’s going down for the murders.”

  Her mouth drops. “No.”

  “I’m getting him away from here.”

  “I’m coming.”

  “No you’re not, Pace. It’s not safe.”

  “I don’t care,” she snarls, and runs out to pack her own bag.

  I follow her. “Please, don’t. I don’t know if we’ll survive this.”

  “You think it’s safe for us here?” she demands, and I realize she means her and her child. “We’re coming with you.”

  “No – ”

  “I’m pregnant!” she snaps. “I’m not an invalid! I can help.”

  I sigh. This is a disaster waiting to happen. “Righto. Come on then.”

  “Josi?” she says, and I stop at the sound of my real name on her lips. “Did he do it?”

  Did Luke commit the crime Hal died for?

  “I don’t know,” I tell her honestly. Because the truth is, I don’t. There are pieces that don’t fit, but I’m determined to make them.

  *

  I stand now before ten people. Luke’s Bloods in training. Will has gone ahead, Shadow stands by my side and Pace has taken Shadow’s place in the line.

  “I’m not anyone,” I say. “But Luke is someone. He’s our person. The one person who’s been teaching us to be enough to survive, and to fight. You followed him. And now I’m asking you to free him, so that we can complete the mission we’ve been training for.”

  There’s a long pause.

  “Did he do it?” Blue asks. Shadow brought the bully here, against my wishes.

  “I don’t know,” I say. “But he believed in every one of you. So I’m asking you to believe in him.”

  It seems to work. Blue meets my eyes. “I’m in, then.” And all my animosity toward him seeps away as if through cracked glass.

  The rest of them step forward, one at a time, until there are twelve of us.

&n
bsp; *

  We raid the weapons closet and then head out. Shadow and I came up with a very basic plan, pretty much relying on the element of surprise. As a bound Luke is being led out toward the wall for his ‘exile’, we’ll take weapons and spread out over the square.

  We reach the gate where a crowd of people has formed around Quinn, Raven and Luke. There are weapons trained on Luke from all angles so he can’t hope to escape.

  Before the gate is opened for him, we surround the crowd and aim our weapons straight at them. “Stop!” I yell.

  Everyone swivels to see me.

  “Let him go, or people die.”

  “You’re not going to shoot innocent people,” Raven laughs.

  “Watch me.”

  And there is so much steel in my voice that I see her hesitate. The thing is, I’m not going to kill anyone – I’d rather be mowed down myself. But ironically I’m an excellent liar. I’ll do anything to make her think I will. Including shooting a young man in the leg.

  Which I do.

  The man squeals in shock and Ranya races to help him – she’ll be able to treat him easily enough. I hope.

  But the gunshot has freaked everyone out. It’s obvious this could swiftly become fatal. Quinn waves his hand to the soldiers on the wall. As soon as they stand down we move in, taking Luke and shepherding him toward the train.

  “None of you will ever be allowed back in The Inferno if you do this!” Quinn shouts. “It’s an affront to everything we stand for!”

  I pause while the others take off. Everyone is pretty much just watching us in astonishment – no one really wants to stop us because they love Luke, without exception, and I don’t think anyone actually has a clue what’s really going on.

  I look at Quinn. “What is – resistance?”

  He opens his mouth but nothing comes out. I run for the tunnel.

  *

  Luke

  There are birds on the backs of every seat, staring at me, but I ignore them as I walk past and find a spot at the end of the train carriage. They turn their heads and watch me; I can feel them even when I’m not looking at them.

  Josi sits next to me. I feel boxed in. She’s taking up too much space and I can’t breathe. She looks at my scalp, inspecting the cuts there. I don’t even remember how I got them, but I can feel their sting.

  “What are you feeling?” she asks me.

  I consider the question; it’s somehow better than if she’d asked how are you?

  The rest of my crew is on this train, further up the carriage. They’re all raucous with excited energy, with nerves and general exuberance. I can see them wrestling and checking their weapons and chattering away manically. Shadow stands up the front, silent as usual but casting a grave presence over everyone. Even Pace is here, talking to Will who can’t stop moving. They both look hyperactive.

  I watch it all through a haze as if I am underwater. My heartbeat is restless.

  My parents are not with us. They were waiting at the bottom of the tunnel steps, but wouldn’t get on the train. Too much for Dad, Mom said. Too hard on his body. The Parkinson’s is getting worse. And then there was no time to convince them because the train was there and we were jumping on, and the last image I have of them is standing on that platform as we sped away. I have to believe they won’t be harmed. I have to.

  My eyes make their way back to Josi. She can see what I’m feeling. I want to run run run run run run run run –

  “Go,” she says. So I do. I run up and down the train carriages for eight hours straight without stopping.

  *

  September 10th, 2066

  Luke

  What the virus made Josi feel: angry. Sick. Guilty.

  What the virus makes me feel: bat-shit crazy.

  And gooooooooooooooood.

  There’s power in my muscles. And I am used to power, but not like this. I like knowing exactly what my body can do, what I can demand of it. Now it does more.

  I hit a punching bag and it bursts. I run faster than I ever have with zero effort. I win fights, and want more fights. I want to kill Furies, and Bloods, and I want to show anyone who gets in my way that I can destroy them and it’s not even hard.

  I want Josephine. I want her every second of every day, I want her right now, and I’m not dealing well with the fact that I can’t have her. I’d stop this train if I wasn’t so intent on killing the people we find when it arrives. Death and sex fill me, drench me.

  A distant memory of the man I was tells me to be careful. He is caution and discipline and he is made of iron. He’s spent a lifetime being precise. But he grows more silent with every passing day. The man now taking his place is loud and brash and he knows exactly what he wants. He doesn’t care about hurting people; he takes what’s his. He’s a Viking.

  I stop running after eight hours. Everyone is staring at me. I don’t want to talk to any of them.

  Josi moved down the train so she can be alone. I take a breath and follow her, knowing I will have to face this conversation at some point. She has her legs up on the seat, staring out the window.

  I sit opposite, then can’t even manage to sit, so stand again.

  “What are you feeling?” she repeats.

  I crack my knuckles. Realize she actually needs to know. Alright, here goes. “Restless. Pissed off. A bit numb. I have too much energy. I want to smash stuff and break things. I can barely think straight. I’m … angry. Obviously whatever the hell is in this drug is ramping up my testosterone levels. And my adrenalin.”

  “Yeah, no shit,” she agrees. She watches me and I can’t read her expression.

  “I want you,” I blurt out. “I want you now, and all the time, and I want to have you whenever I want. I want you to be mine to have. I’m tired of this bullshit pretending. I …” I struggle to form words and my hands start shaking. “I can’t think of anything else.”

  “Take a deep breath and try to calm down.”

  I draw a breath, a deep one.

  “Close your eyes,” she orders, so I do. I breathe as slowly as I can, and feel my heart calm infinitesimally. My blood seems to cool a little, enough perhaps to have a normal, human conversation.

  “Drink this,” Josi bids me, and I realize she’s offering me whisky from a sack. Whoever thought to bring this is a genius; I drink the whole thing and feel myself mellow somewhat. I slump onto the seat opposite.

  After a while I am able to focus on her. “You look tired,” I murmur.

  “I am tired.”

  “Thank you for trying to get my parents out.”

  “Of course.”

  We look at each other for a while. I feel relaxed, but I know it won’t last long.

  “You kissed Lace,” she says abruptly.

  Oh, god. “No,” I reply. “She kissed me.”

  “Your standard answer these days.”

  “Yeah, well it keeps fucking happening.”

  “I believe you,” she tells me. “But I was humiliated, having to hear about it from the other side of a holding cell, after you and I had been over every inch of that case. You don’t think it would have been kinder to tell me about this before I had to hear it from Quinn in your murder investigation?”

  “I wanted to spare you,” I say. “I’d caused you so much pain already.”

  “Because of the lies,” she specifies. “The lies are what hurt. And then you lied again.”

  I stare at her helplessly. There is a red-breasted finch sitting on the seat behind her, watching me. It’s beautiful. It makes my toes curl and my teeth ache.

  “Yes,” I say simply. “Yes.”

  Something smashes against the train window. I jerk in fright, looking to see a smatter of blood. There is a second impact, a mighty crack, and I realize there are birds flying straight into the glass, one after the other.

  I stand, deeply unnerved. My heart explodes. I can feel sweat trickling down my spine. My skin is two sizes too small. “You still don’t trust me,” I snap, “Because you
’re so fucking irrational I can’t even talk to you anymore. I haven’t done anything wrong! You won’t believe me no matter what I say because you let your own shit rule you – all those people who hurt you as a kid rule your whole damn life and you just let them – ”

  “Stop,” she says.

  I clench my hands to stop them shaking.

  “You’ve never been cruel. This isn’t you.”

  “You said you didn’t know me,” I rasp.

  “I lied.”

  Something collapses inside me. I sit down again. “I’m losing my mind,” I whisper.

  Another bird slams into the window and I jerk backwards. The impact shocks something deep within me. My nerves are shattered. I can’t take it anymore.

  “What do you keep seeing?” Josi asks me worriedly.

  Tears spill onto my cheeks. “Birds.”

  She closes her eyes. For her there are no birds and no cracked windows, but she can see the fear in my face. “Why?”

  “I don’t know. Anthony. You. The world being extinct of them. I don’t know.”

  I’m about to get up and leave her, run and run and run, when she says, “I guess you don’t yet understand, so I’ll explain it to you.”

  One of her eyes looks very blue and one of her eyes looks very brown. They’re strange, disorienting things, Josephine Luquet’s eyes.

  Smash, smash, smash go the birds into the glass around us.

  “You and I are it,” she says. “We’re it. So you don’t lie to me, ever. You can tell me anything – even the very worst things about you. The things you can’t even tell yourself – you can tell me those. If you fall in love with someone else, you can tell me that. If you do something terrible, you can tell me that. If you see birds where there are none, you can tell me. Because I’ll help you bear it. I’ll hear it and I’ll love you regardless. What will make me fall out of love with you is if you lie.”