Tomorrow-Chapter Six

In the centre of the room there’s a tall, thin man. His hair is jet black and his face is ugly without hilarity. His nose is large and hooked with a bump over the bridge. A long scar runs from his left eye down to his misshapen mouth, tugging the left corner upwards. The scar is deep and dangerous. His face is pitted and chunks are missing. Over his right eye, he’s wearing a black eye patch. He’s wearing a gold nose ring on his slightly crooked nose. He’s dressed in black from head to toe. When he sees me holding Eddie’s hand, he smiles. Most of his teeth are gone.

“So glad you could join us.” He shouts. His voice is deep and gravelly. Eddie and I stand in the doorway. I look around at the large crowd of people surrounding the scarred man. They look about my age, some are older, and some are younger. They all turn to look at us. A blond girl at the back glares at me. “Well, what’re you waiting for; the grass to grow?” The man shouts again. Eddie tugs my arm and we walk over to join the group.

“As I was saying, we have a new member and now that she has decided to grace us with her presence, I can introduce her.” He says, grinning at me, “Why don’t you come up here, Elizabeth?”

I walk towards him. “Leave lover boy behind.” I flush, realising that I haven’t let go of Eddie’s hand. The crowd laughs. I glare at the scarred man and drop Eddie’s hand. I push my way through the crowd until I stand next to him. I can’t see the faces of the people in the crowd but I glare at them anyway. Someone somewhere laughs. The scarred man laughs. “Everyone, this is Elizabeth, our newest recruit.” Everyone claps. I cross my arms.

“I want one of you to make sure she goes to the right places today. Any volunteers?”

Eddie’s hand shoots into the air. The scarred man glances at him. “Anyone else?” The blond girl at the back raises her hand. She smiles at me. It looks more like a grimace. “Brilliant, Isla, you can take Elizabeth round today.” Everyone claps again before starting to walk off. Isla makes her way towards me.

She’s the sort of person that other people would think is pretty but really, she’s not. Her face is too harsh and pointed. I decide that she looks like a rat; a drowned rat. I don’t trust rodents. Her hair’s nice, though; it’s blonde and wavy. Once she reaches me, she sticks out a tanned hand. “Isla, Isla Pocket.” I look at her hand. She grabs my hand and shakes it once before dropping it like its poisoned. We stand there, observing each other, like two rival stallions eying each other up before a fight. Someone laughs. Isla sighs and grabs my forearm, pushing her way through the crowd of teenagers. She needn’t have worried; they all move out of her way when they see her coming through. She drags me along the maze of corridors until we get to the gymnasium. It’s empty. I eye Isla warily. Somehow, I don’t want to be alone in a room with her.

Instead, I walk over to one of the treadmills. I sit on the end, staring at Isla, who stares back. I don’t like that girl. Suddenly, one of the doors is flung open. I jump and leap to my feet, glancing around. Isla looks at me questioningly. I look over at the door and sigh. I am in the company of the delightful Charles Grey once more. Several boys and girls crowd into the room after him. I walk over, hoping that he doesn’t see me, and stand at the back of the crowd. Sadly, I’m tall.

“Ah, Elizabeth, I see you’re without a gym kit.” He says. I look around at all the other people. They’ve all swapped the jumpsuit and boots for a black t-shirt and shorts and a pair of white trainers.

Charles looks me up and down before walking over to a shelf at the side of the room and picking up a pile of clothes and a pair of trainers. He hands them to me. I look down at them. I glance around the room, looking for somewhere to change. Seeing nowhere suitable, I look at him questioningly. He smiles slightly before pointing to a door leading off the room. I walk over to it and open the door. I step inside and quickly change into the exercise gear before re-joining the group.

Charles is explaining what we’re going to do. He says something about running. I tune out in the hope that someone will explain what we’re doing to me later. I gaze around at the room. It’s big and spacious. It’s emotionless. It has no sense of character; no history. Instinctively, I hate it.

“Elizabeth?” A voice says. I look around. Charles is staring at me. “Would you come over here please?” It’s not a question.

I nod and walk over to him, ignoring the stares of everyone else in the gym.

“Today, you’re not going to do what they’re doing. You’re going to do an assessment, ok?” He pauses whilst I nod before continuing. “Follow me.”

I sigh and walk after him. Why is it that I always get lumped with him? We walk through another door and into a room next door. It’s a mini version of the room next door; there’s a treadmill, a punch bag and in the corner there’s a shelf with weights and other equipment. Charles walks over to the shelf and picks up an armband which he wraps around my arm.

“This is going to measure your heart rate, ok?”

I nod. I look down at the number on the armband. The numbers higher than usual. He looks down too and smiles. I glare at him. He clears his throat and continues. “I want you to run on the treadmill until I come back for you in about half an hour.” He walks out of the door, slamming it behind him. I look at the treadmill and shrug my shoulders. I don’t know how to start it but I’m sure I’ll be able to work it out. I hop onto the treadmill and gasp when it starts up automatically. Guess I didn’t have to worry about not being able to start it.

It starts of slowly but it gradually picks up the pace until I’m running so fast it feels like my lungs are about to burst. As I run, I keep thinking about how much I want to stop but then I see Charles’ insufferably smug face and I know that, whatever I do, I have to carry on. So, I keep pumping my arms and legs until, at long last, the door opens. Charles walks in. I hate him but, right now, I’ve never been so happy to see him. He walks over to the treadmill and presses one of the buttons. Gratefully, I slide off the treadmill. I reaches over to my arm and looks at the number on the armband. My heart rate goes up by another couple of beats.

“Did you keep running?”

I nod.

“Good. I hope you’re not lying because, if you are you should say so now. I’ll find out anyway.” He says, staring pointedly over my shoulder at a small hole in the wall. There must be a camera or something. Great, this place is spying on me. Suddenly I remember my Dad telling me years ago that Big Brother’s always watching. Wish I knew who Big Brother is.

“I’m not lying.”

“No, I didn’t think you were.”

I glare at him. I can lie if I want to. In fact, sometimes, my lies are so convincing that, I even manage to convince myself that they’re the truth. Sometimes, I don’t even know how much of my life is true, what with all of the lying I do.

“Ok, can you walk over to the punch bag please?”

I shrug my shoulders and walk over, taking care not to walk into the side of the treadmill. I stand in front of the bag, my hands hanging limply by my sides. I look back at Charles. He laughs. The guy seems to spend half his life laughing at me.

“You have to punch.”

I glare at him and turn back to the bag. I look at it and imagine that it’s Charles. I punch it once. It swings violently to the left. I punch it again and it flies to the right. I punch it in the centre and it flies backwards. I aim for different parts of his anatomy each time; his nose, his stomach, his mouth, his arm. I keep punching until my naked knuckles feel like they’re on fire. I glance down at them. They’re bleeding. I look at Charles, trying to see if it’s time for me to stop. He nods at me and looks at the number on my arm again.

“Ok, we’re going to head over to the shooting range now, ok?” He says.

“That’s cool.” I say, following him out of the door.

We walk out of the gymnasium, which is now empty, and into the corridor. We turn left and walk straight ahead until we reach a heavy oak door. Charles pushes it open and we step outside. It’s the first time I’ve actually been outside since I arrived. It’s nice. The grass is lush and green. I look down towards the sparkling lake. I can see the tiny figures that must be people lying in the grass beside it. I follow Charles down a gravel path which leads to the forest. We turn left down another path just before we reach the tall and oddly comforting trees and walk until we reach a line of targets. They’re basic but I assume it’ll get harder as I go on. Everything always does. If life was easy, it’d be boring. That’s what my Dad always used to say.

Charles walks over to a table next to the line of targets and hands me a pistol. I look at it. I hate guns. A gun killed my family and many more. He hands it to me. I take it and feel its deadly weight in my hand. I want to hurl it into the lake but I fight the urge. Nothing good ever comes of listening to random impulses. I appease myself by simply staring at the contraption with a look of utmost loathing. Charles nods at me and I raise the gun. It’s heavy. I look down at the range and close my eyes as I pull the trigger. The pistol goes off with a sharp crack. I open my eyes and look at the target. I don’t think I hit it. Suddenly, Charles is next to me.

“You shut your eyes, why?”

I say nothing and raise the pistol again. I try not to shut my eyes but, when I squeeze the trigger, I can’t help it. I hear the dreaded crack. I don’t open my eyes until I’ve fired all the bullets in the gun. Then, I open my eyes and peer at the target again. It’s perfectly blank, just like it was when I first got here. I reach for more ammunition.

“Put the gun down.”

Without thinking, I put the gun down. Instantly, I feel happier.

“Come over here.”

I walk over to where Charles is standing. He sits down on the emerald green grass. He pats the ground beside him and I sit.

“What happened to you?” He asks.

“I don’t like to talk about it.”

“Neither do I but sometimes, you have to.”

I stay silent, gazing at the slightly smoking gun on the table. I hear him sigh.

“Fine, I’ll do you a deal, ok?” He waits until I nod before continuing, “I’ll tell you my story if you tell me yours.”

I nod.

“Ok, for starters, I’m not really called Charles Grey but I suppose you’ve already guessed that. My name is Sebastian Brixton and I was born on the 5th of October 2541. I lived in a small town by the coast. When they brought over reinforcements, my town was one of the first places they took. They burnt down our houses. Ours went first because we lived nearest to the coast. Then, they rounded all of us up and marched us to a quarry in the woods. They killed my father first because he was the mayor of the town. I watched whilst they tied a piece of cloth around his eyes. Then, a huge man raised an axe and…” he trails off, closing his eyes as though, if he closes them, the past will be undone. I reach over and squeeze his hand. His eyes fly open. I nod at him to continue. “Once they’d killed my father, they rounded up the rest of the men from the town and lined them up. One man tried to run so they stoned him to death with the heavy stones in the quarry. The rest of them died bravely but, just before the guns opened fire, one sunk to his knees, crying out the name of some girl he’d loved once. They killed my mother next and then my sister. Before they could kill me, I crept into one of the bushes. It was dense and the holly leaves hurt my skin. I crawled through the undergrowth until I reached an opening. I walked through the woods for days, barely sleeping in case they found me. Eventually, I reached a town. I slept at one of the bus stations for the night. And that’s when they found me. Ever since then, I’ve worked for the Occidere Occidi.”

He looks at me and smiles wanly. “Your turn.”

I pick up his hand and start. “I am, sorry, I was Rebecca Grace Parker but, you already know that. They reached our village in the middle of the night. We were all still sleeping and we only realised they had reached us when they started to drag us out of bed. They took us to the field where we used to play games in the summer. My Dad pushed me into a bush on the way to the field and, in the confusion, I suppose they didn’t realise. They were too busy loading up their guns.” I add bitterly. “I crept through the bushes until I could see what was going on. They lined everyone up. They raised their guns. My father died first, then my mother and finally my brother. He was only eight. My village was quite small but, there were puddles of blood. I stayed in the bushes until they started to burn our homes then, I ran to the woods and made my way to the city. Sometimes, when I’m sleeping, I see my father’s eyes catch mine from across the field but, I know that I’ll never see him again…” I close my eyes. I see my father, tall and proud. I see my mother, her lips moving in silent prayer. I see my brother’s head lying in a pool of blood. Then, I see the men in black. They’re coming towards me, crowding around me. I scream and my eyes fly open.

Charles reaches over and this time it’s his turn to squeeze my hand. I smile. “I guess we’re both pretty messed up, huh?”

He grins, “I guess we are.” We smile like a pair of Cheshire cats for a few moments before a voice breaks the silence.

“Well, I’m sorry to interrupt the love birds.” A deep voice says. I drop Charles’ hand and wipe the grin off my face. I whip my head around to see the scared man standing behind us. Charles leaps to his feet and walks over to the table. He picks up a pistol and fires five shots at the target. They all hit the same spot in the middle. He walks back up to the cottage. “Elizabeth, you’re needed in the test facility.” The man says. I nod and stand up. The scared man marches me back up the gravel path and towards the grey stone building. It’s beautiful in an artistic, rambling way. The man pushes open the main door and I follow him inside. On my left, there’s a small door. He opens it and pushes me inside.

I’m in a small, dark room. In the centre, there’s a desk. There are two chairs, one on either side of the desk. A blond woman is sat in one of the chairs. In front of her is a clipboard and two wires, as well as a bag of something. She stands up as I walk in.

“Julie.” She says, holding out her hand. I shake it and she smiles warmly. She indicates to the chair and I sit down, wondering what she’s going to do with the wires. “Okay, Elizabeth, I’m going to attach these wires on either side of your forehead. Then, I’m going to blindfold you, okay?” I nod and she starts pushing back my fringe and taping the wires to either side of my forehead. Once they’re in place, she picks up a black blindfold and ties it around my head. Suddenly, I’m plunged into total darkness.

“Okay, I’m going to give you a series of things to smell and you’re just going to say the first thing that comes to mind, ok?” She says. I nod.

Julie places something under my nose. It smells slightly mossy, like the earth. It reminds me of the field I used to keep my horse in. I used to lie under the tree by the river and smell the sweet, fresh earth. I haven’t been there in years. I should go soon. Then, I remember what happened the last time I was in that field and suddenly I don’t want to go there too soon.

“Field.” I say.

Julie removes the smell and I hear her fumbling around for the next one. I know what it is as soon as it wafts up my nostrils. It’s ginger. It smells familiar but I just can’t place it. Perhaps my mother used to cook with ginger? I don’t remember her ever doing so but where else could I have smelt it?

“Cooking.”

She places something else under my nose. It smells rusty and oddly metallic. I remember that smell. I remember smelling it from underneath a holly bush. I remember it made me drowsy. It stopped me from running. Oh yes, I remember that smell very well indeed.

“Blood.” I say, fighting to stop my voice from trembling.

I hear a smash and then the sound of Julie swearing. She must’ve dropped something. She shoves something else under my nose. It smells sweet, too sweet. It should be a nice smell but it’s oddly repulsive. It makes me feel nauseous. Suddenly, I remember where I smelt it. I was covered in it when I ran from the field. It’s the smell of sweat and fear.

“Fear.”

“Okay, Elizabeth, you can pull the blindfold off now.”

I pull the black fabric off and look around the room. It seems oddly bright considering I thought it was gloomy a few minutes ago. I look at Julie. She looks concerned. She reaches over and peels the wires off my forehead and smooth’s my fringe back down. I glance at the sheet of paper on the clipboard. It’s covered in neat, slanted writing. Julie sees me looking and snatches the clipboard and hugs it to her chest.

“When will I find out the results of my test?” I ask.

“In due course. They will be sent to him first and then to Charles.”

“May I leave?”

She nods and I stand up. I push open the door and stand in the large entrance hall. I’ve never really looked around the cottage. I glance around. There’s no one here. The hall is large. The floor is made from checked black and white tiles and the walls are grey stone. Portraits of people from times gone by line the walls. There are two staircases leading up to another floor, as well as a large door in the centre and several smaller doors. I walk over to one of the staircases and begin to climb. I pass several portraits as I go and I stare at the pale, haughty faces of the ladies and the odd hairstyles of the men. I climb until I reach a landing. On one side of the landing, there’s a railing. I look over the edge. Below me, is a large dining hall. There are five tables lying vertically across the hall with a large oak table at the top. The tables are set for a meal and, already, people are starting to mill about. I’m not hungry.

I turn away from the railing and walk along the landing. There’s a door on my left. I try the handle. It’s locked. I move on to the next door. It’s unlocked. I push it open and walk inside. In the centre of the room, there’s a large table with thousands of papers piled on top of it. In the corner, there’s a filing cabinet. One of the files is sticking out, like someone was flicking through it and had to put it away hastily. I detach it from the other files and flick it open. I am confronted by the face of my father. Intrigued, I flip over onto the next page. It’s a basic fact file, telling me his name, date of birth, family members and place of residence. At the bottom, it says ‘Agent Number: 765’. I flip over the page. I didn’t know my father was an agent. The rest of the file contains the details of his missions. I flip through idly until I reach the final page. It’s a picture of my father lying face down in a pool of his own crimson blood. Across it, printed in large red letters is the word ‘TERMINATED’. I slam the file shut. A high-pitched cackle erupts from somewhere. I cover my ears and run from the room. I run along the landing to a door at the end. Inside, I find a flight of stairs. I hurriedly scramble up them. I reach a spiral staircase. I hurtle up it until I reach a trap door. I push it open and find myself standing on top of a very high, windy tower. I look out over the battlements and see the forest. I long to go in there and explore but that would involve walking back along the landing. I don’t want to do that.

Suddenly, what I just saw hits me. Did these people kill my father? Did they kill my mother and brother too? Did they mean to kill me? Are they going to kill me? Suddenly, I’m transported back to the day they died. There was a man there who appeared to be in charge. Once he’d rounded everyone up and herded them into the field, he pulled off his mask and laughed. I remember how the moonlight caught the scar which ran down one side of his face. I shiver. I remember how he picked up a gun and aimed it at my father. I remember how the bullets made holes in my father’s body. I remember how he fell onto the ground. Yes, the man with the scar killed my father and now I will kill him.