Rolling her eyes, she said, “It was meant to be a peaceful march. It’s not my fault some idiots took it too far.”
“Still, you need to be more—”
“Can we not? We’ve only got a short time together before I next see you God-knows-when.”
The four of them walked along the gravel path, Zeke and Zaya trailing ahead of Noah and Frankie. The normalcy of it all struck him: angry cyclists dinging bells at slow-to-move pedestrians; children screaming and running circles around each other; dogs chasing balls.
“So,” said Zaya, nudging into him, lowering her voice to a murmur. “How’s it going with Noah, then?”
He glanced over to meet Zaya’s eyes, her analytical gaze boring into his as she grinned at him, her smile a wide horizon.
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, come off it. His eyes haven’t left you since the moment you all got here. He practically snarled at that random guy that pushed into you earlier.”
Zeke attempted to suppress the hot flush that crept up his neck. His chest felt tight as he stared at the gravel path.
He lowered his voice to say, “Frankie doesn’t know. It’s sort of a bit awkward with him being our CO. But, it’s going well. He’s amazing.” He kept his eyes firmly on the gravel path.
“Why didn’t you tell me you were interested in guys?” Zaya sounded pleasant enough, but he knew her well enough to spot the light drizzle of hurt leaking through.
“It’s sort of a recent discovery.”
“Well, I’m happy for you. How did—”
Someone barrelled straight towards them on an e-scooter, seemingly unwilling or unable to change their course. The four of them dove to the side of the path, tumbling into each other. The rider—a spotty teenage boy—screeched the scooter to a halt. He scanned their faces, locking onto Noah’s. Without a word, he threw a piece of paper at him.
“You dropped this,” he grunted, before pressing down hard on his handlebars, zooming off down the path before any of them could react. Noah’s eyebrows knitted together as he fumbled to open the small piece of heavily folded paper.
“I hope it’s a treasure map,” said Frankie, and Zaya snorted.
They crowded around behind Noah’s shoulders to read it.
Unit 12, top floor. E17 9HQ. 3 pm. Alone. - N
There was a pregnant silence.
“Is this from… your uncle?” Zeke reached forward to touch it.
Noah folded the paper and slipped it into his pocket, his lips pressed into a grim line.
“That’s miles away,” said Zaya. “You’d better leave soon if you want to make it. I’ll lead us back.”
Noah shook his head, putting his hands in his pockets. “You two stay with Zaya.”
“Absolutely not,” said Zeke, while Frankie nodded her head in agreement. “I don’t care that he said alone. This could be some sort of weird trap.”
Frankie’s face flickered with confusion. “For what?”
“I have to head back to work anyway,” said Zaya. “I’ll walk you to your car.”
All too soon, the three of them stood looking up at a tall, derelict building on the corner of a quiet street, in an industrial part of East London. They hadn’t seen a single soul for the last five minutes of the drive, which hadn’t reassured Zeke.
After trying every door they could locate only to find them locked, Noah removed his coat, balling it up in his fist before smashing the glass pane on the door furthest from the street.
“Christ, Noah!” Frankie hissed.
Noah said nothing in reply, just pushed the glass away to lean through to unlock the door from the inside.
