There was a fire spreading, as Raj had promised, from the burning library. Torchlight emerged from the distant forests. Raj had been right about not having time to dig under the shield. Ewan picked up the pace whilst stuffing the New London papers into his shirt, wondering how detailed the Outer City map would have to be for Raj’s sacrifice to be worth it.
They half-walked, half-jogged for a mile before Ewan felt it was safe to slow down and speak his mind.
‘Gracie, I put you with Raj…’
‘Not now, Ewan.’
‘Shut up, Jack. Gracie, you two were supposed to stay together…’
Ewan deliberately avoided her gaze, and kept his eyes on the darkened grass beneath his feet. Jack and Gracie were behind him, right where they belonged.
‘I’ve got metal fillings!’ Gracie wailed, far too loud. ‘If I’d stayed with him I’d have died too!’
‘If you’d made him stay with you, you’d both be alive.’
‘He chose to stay!’
‘You chose to leave him.’
‘Ewan,’ Jack interrupted, ‘I know you’re not in the mood, but Raj couldn’t have got the New London stuff without staying and searching.’
‘Shut up, Jack. She could have stayed with him and searched quicker.’
‘When Mark tells you to run, you run. It’d take a very resilient—’
‘Shut up, Jack!’
For about five seconds, Jack took his advice. The silence was welcome, and for a moment Ewan felt the cold breeze, and the wet grass wiping against his boots. If he cared enough to look upwards, he could have seen the sky lit up with stars, and remembered that all his worldly troubles were just a tiny speck on the vast expanse of reality, or some crap like that.
Apparently, five seconds was enough for Jack.
‘You need to stop being nasty to me, Ewan. If you didn’t want that chat about your parents earlier you could have just said so, rather than hate me for the rest of the night. Take a moment to yourself, and leave Gracie alone. I’ll call comms and break the news to Alex and Shannon.’
Ewan’s PDA came right to the surface, and Jack’s set of commands made his fists clench in a reflex action. The breath caught in his throat as his sense of control – the very last of it – vanished from his mind. But by the time he turned around, Jack already had his phone in front of his face. Ewan couldn’t start a fight while Jack was calling comms. Not with Shannon watching via video call.
Screw you, Jack… screw you and your advice and your dinosaur obsession and your love of machines and…
You’re right. But screw you anyway.
It had been the comment about his parents that hurt the most. Because Jack had been right about them too.
When Ewan made an effort to remember his mother, he had fond memories of who she had been. But his memory of her personality and his memory of their relationship were different things, and his strongest memories of their time together were best avoided. The good parts of his formative years had been spent with Dad, and the bad parts with Mum.
They had split their parental responsibilities pretty well, right down to Dad having the military job and Mum doing the housework. It seemed like an old-fashioned family set-up, but it was Ewan’s fault she had become a stay-at-home mum. His mainstream head teachers had dragged her into school so many times that it was easier to just sit at home and wait for the phone to ring, rather than take every afternoon off work and run out of holiday leave.
But the split went beyond household roles. Dad had been the parent who taught Ewan the skills he would need for adulthood, physically and mentally. He’d taught him the foundations of what being a man would one day be like, and gave him the best chance he could at preventing his neurology from screwing up his chances. Major George West had been a good man, and a good father. But he had only been effective on Ewan’s good days. It was Mum who had dealt with the bad ones.
She had always been there when something caused him to stumble. Exclusions from primary school were dealt with by tearful cuddles on the sofa. Post-meltdown evenings as a teenager had been solved with movies and homemade shepherd’s pie. She had provided the consistency and stability that a troubled boy desperately needed, and she had done it to perfection. But it had come to define their relationship: a priceless mother-and-son bond that was built entirely upon the things that went wrong.
Ewan had spent his happiest days with Dad. Mum had been there on the sidelines, silent, non-judgemental, waiting for her turn to be needed again. And each time she had picked him off the floor, hugged him better and sent him on his way, the young Ewan had gone back to his usual habit of avoiding her. Unless she was right there on a day when he needed fixing, it was easier not to associate with someone who so firmly reminded him of his bad moments.
When Ewan thought about it, he treated the memory of Mum exactly how he had treated the real woman when she was alive. Nearly a year on from Mum and Dad being gunned down inside their barricaded house, Ewan still couldn’t think of her without digging up his worst times.
It was nothing personal. Ewan had loved her. But enduring the pain of those memories wouldn’t bring her back. She was dead. Dad was dead. His aunt and uncle and eight-year-old Alfie were dead, along with Raj and Charlie and all the others on that bloody Memorial Wall.
The pain of missing someone is always worth it for the joy of having known them, said a wise man’s voice in his head.
Shut up, McCormick, Ewan’s mind said back.
‘Ewan,’ came a voice behind him.
The breeze came back into existence. As did the rest of the world around him. They weren’t far from the edge of the field now, and a tree line that would give them cover.
The stream of tears across his face became real too.
‘Ewan,’ Jack repeated, ‘I gave comms the news, and told them not to expect us back for a while. Shannon… Shannon passes on her best wishes.’
Ewan didn’t answer. Shannon’s company would have been welcome at that moment.
‘And I told them we’re splitting up even further,’ Jack continued. ‘You can go on your own, and me and Gracie will stick together. We’ll meet up at the house in Lemsford – the one we slept in last time. Might take a whole day to get there, but it’s better than getting followed to Spitfire’s Rise.’
Ewan grunted, but didn’t turn around. Jack’s unwelcome fingers landed on his shoulder.
‘I told them we were splitting up to lose anyone chasing us. And because it’d make us all faster. I didn’t tell them the third reason. Figured you’d need some time alone.’
Screw you, Jack, Ewan thought again. Screw you for knowing me so well. For knowing where I’m weak, and…
…And for being my friend.
Chapter 9
Kate twitched in fright as Mark’s brick smashed her geography teacher’s car window. To their left, Simon shook his head frantically.
‘You’re making me do this,’ Mark growled as he opened the door from the inside. ‘You’re both slow as hell, and the clones are coming. Either I break the no cars rule, or I leave you both behind.’
You had no problem leaving my brother behind …
‘Get bloody running, they’re not worth it’, you said. You had no idea how much James was worth.