The next thing to wonder about was what had woken her up. She lay as still as possible, listening as hard as possible, but couldn’t hear anything or sense any danger. She had a vague memory of a nightmare with some terrible creature with rough brown fur and long, curving white fangs lunging at her. Not so much a nightmare, but a memory. The creature was dead. Hallie had watched its death, on the floor of the main library in Cotovatre’s house, feeling an odd sense of pity even though the creature would have killed her without a second thought. It made a certain sort of sense that she would have thought of the creature now, when she was worried about either the gunners or Jonah’s men finding her. But they hadn’t found her. That knowledge let her relax a fraction.
She’d actually slept for a little while. Enough to take the worst edge of her tiredness, and to let her muscles stiffen up. It was still dark, from what she could tell, so she hadn’t slept for long. And Girard hadn’t found her. A trickle of concern ran through her. She’d fully expected him to catch up with her not that long after they’d gone their separate ways. For a moment she wondered if she should try and find him and almost laughed at the thought. She had no idea where she was, and didn’t have the tracking magic that Girard possessed. It was possible that,disoriented by the trees and lack of knowledge of the island, she would end up in the middle of nowhere. If she was very, very lucky she might manage to find her way back to the road, but that was likely to lead to her meeting up with either Jonah’s men or the gunners, or possibly both, and both Nicholas and Jonah seemed to want her dead, so that was not a good option.
She could stay where she was. She considered that for a few moments. It was relatively safe where she was. She had some more food and water, and a gun, and was fairly sure that she’d hear anyone or anything trying to approach her. But it didn’t sit well with her to be doing nothing while Jonah and Nicholas went about their lives and made awful plans for other people’s deaths. Besides, she’d promised herself that she would try and stop Jonah and Nicholas, and that wasn’t going to happen with her sitting in the middle of the shrub. She needed to move.
Getting off the ground and out through the leaves and branches was horrible. Every part of her hurt. She’d done more running that day, or the previous day, or whenever it had been, than she did most months and her muscles were letting her know it.
She emerged into the forest and stretched, which didn’t help much. The only things which would help, she knew, were time and movement. Time wasn’t something she could manufacture, but she could move. Using the slope of the ground as a guide, she turned herself uphill and began walking.
She lost track of time, and any sense of distance, forcing her body to keep moving, to keep climbing, muscles protesting even more loudly at the effort of the constant uphill gradient, scrambling over tree roots and a fallen tree at one point where there had been a small landslip. The canopy had broken there, and with a shock Hallie realised that dawn had broken, early morning light bathing the small clearing and letting her see her surroundings. Enough to confirm that she was completely andutterly lost. She was out of sight of the road, though, and that was what mattered. And she was heading in the right direction. Uphill.
She ducked her head and kept going, past the clearing and on into the closely-packed trees.
Hallie had to stop. She was coated in sweat under her clothes, breathing hard, chest hurting from the effort of simply drawing air in and out. Her legs were trembling with the effort of the climb. She staggered a couple of steps and leant against the nearest tree. For a few moments all she could hear was a terrible gasping, wheezing noise. It took a pause for her to realise it was her own laboured breathing and not some fearsome forest creature about to attack her. Focusing on taking one breath at a time helped. A little. She badly wanted to flop down onto the forest floor, but she had a feeling if she did that she might not be able to get back up again.
When she’d got her breathing more or less under control, she pulled the remaining water bottle out of her jacket pocket and took a few careful sips. It was a small bottle and she didn’t know when she’d next find clean water. She also broke off half a protein bar and chewed it slowly, then gave in to the hunger cramping her stomach and ate the rest of it, not knowing when she might be able to get more food. Being on the island was giving her a new appreciation for all the widely available fast food in low city. Vegetable protein burgers and fries might not win many points for nutritional value, but they had filled her stomach more than once and kept her going. She tried to imagine a burger van parked in the middle of the trees and choked on a laugh. No self-respecting business owner would set up somewhere with only one customer in sight.
Tucking the empty wrapper and half-full bottle back into her pocket, she focused on slowing her breathing still further, body cooling now that she’d stopped, and running through amental assessment of where she was and what her resources were. She also had to wonder where Girard was, worried that he hadn’t found her yet. He’d had Jonah’s men after him, and possibly some of the gunners, too. Had he been caught again? Should she have stayed with him? But then they both might have been caught. She scrubbed her hands across her face, grimacing as she felt traces of soil and dried leaves on her skin. Girard was fine, she told herself, trying to believe it. He had just taken some extra time in leading Jonah’s men in the wrong direction. That was all. He’d started with the advantage of darkness, but that had gone. Even so, he probably had another advantage over Jonah’s men, as Girard had been born into a family with their own country estate and so he was used to being outdoors. Despite the daylight, if he was on foot in the forest somewhere, he would almost certainly outmatch the less experienced humans. He was fine. She was sure of it. If she kept repeating it to herself, she could pretend to believe it. She couldn’t help him. Not right now. What she could do was the mission she’d assigned herself. Get close enough to Jonah’s base to gather information. Girard would find her there and together they could pass the information on to the director then wait for back-up. That was the plan.
A heavy, cold drop of water landed on her exposed face and she grimaced, wiping the moisture away. That’s what she got for standing under a tree heavy with morning dew. Another splash landed somehow under the collar of her jacket and she twitched, pulling the fabric more tightly around her neck. She might love the scent and sight of the forest, and feel drawn to the wild places, but she didn’t feel particularly well suited to them. Not right now.
Despite the protests from her legs and muscles, she pushed herself away from the tree and started making her way up the hill again. She thought it was probably mid-morning by now.It was taking her an absolute age to get up this hill. It had looked small from the helicopter, but she was fast learning that was deceptive. She had no idea how far she’d come, or how far she had left to go. What she did know was that there was a real danger of getting cold and her muscles stiffening if she stopped too long. As she moved, she split her focus between her breathing, her next step, and trying to make sure there was no one else around. The last thing she wanted was to be caught by one of Jonah’s men. She wanted to see his base for herself, not be dragged in against her will.
After another horrible stretch of time during which she found herself wondering if being caught by Jonah’s men would really be such a bad idea - after all, they would then be responsible for getting her to the top of the hill - she realised that the could see brighter daylight ahead of her. She stopped, swaying slightly, then moved to press herself against the nearest tree trunk. No, she hadn’t imagined it. The trees thinned out ahead and she could see a dark, straight-lined outline that looked like it might be the corner of a building.
Relief that she wouldn’t have to do any more climbing warred with apprehension about what she might find. And also how she was going to escape detection. She’d been reasonably sure that Jonah was not keeping an eye on the lower slopes of the hill, particularly not the wild forested bits, but now she was close to the building, there would be patrols and perhaps security measures. And it was daylight where she lost any advantage of her sharper eyesight.
After a pause long enough for her to become aware of just how tired and heavy her body was, she moved forward as slowly as she could, trying to stay quiet and scan her surroundings before each step. She caught the glint of sunlight against something hard and metallic or plastic in the undergrowth a couple of times. One was certainly a trip-wire, strung at knee-heightbetween two trees. The other she thought was some kind of a spring trap, the kind that some people in low city used to catch vermin. Except this one was designed for much larger prey. Making her way around the traps took time and energy, but it was worth it if it kept her safe and uninjured. She didn’t see any sign of cameras or other more sophisticated equipment. That made sense, from what she’d seen of the island. There was no net to receive feedback or readings from a camera. But a trip-wire or spring trap would be effective at alerting the guards to any intruder, or stopping them in their tracks.
Then she reached a point where she had a clear view, between tree trunks, of the building ahead. She huddled down, trying to make herself a small shadow against the wide trunk of an ancient tree.
The building was larger than she’d expected, and far from being the tumbledown ruin that she had imagined, with barely any walls intact, it looked surprisingly solid and in good condition. Some of the windows she could see were missing their glass, and patches of the roof looked more like gaping holes than tiled sections. But the walls all seemed to be intact and straight, holding the shape and weight of the building. There were families living in worse buildings in low city.
At some point in its past, perhaps when it had been built at least a couple of hundred years before, it must have been a beautiful and impressive sight. It had been designed with a basic core of two storeys with fanciful round towers at either end that stretched up another two storeys. It had probably been designed to mimic some ancient castle or fortress, and certainly from the air that was the impression that Hallie had taken away. Close up, though, it looked far more like a grand house. The sort of thing that Nicholas Rigg might aspire to, which made her wonder if he’d ever been up the hill and seen the residence that Jonah had claimed.
From her vantage point at the side of the building, Hallie could see that the front of the building held a large, curved wooden door and that there was a decorative geometric pattern etched into the stone walls. Turning her head slightly, she could see that there was a gap in the trees to the front of the building meaning anyone standing there would have had an impressive view of the island and possibly out to the sea as well. She thought that the building was facing the general direction of New Hope, but she couldn’t be sure. She didn’t have Girard’s talent. But she did think that the careful placement of the building and the decoration on the walls had been designed to meet the requirements some long-agohochlenfamily who’d had this place built. If she’d been here not long after its construction, there would probably have been some kind of garden around the building and the interior would have been decorated far more lavishly than the outside.
Hallie could also see a series of single-storey outbuildings around the back of the house and a pair of ATVs parked in front of them. She imagined that at least one of the outbuildings had been used as a stables when the house was first built.Hochlenwould have had no concerns about the costs of bringing horses or large livestock to the island. The horses, like the original owners of the property, had long since gone.
The set-up of the main house and outbuildings reminded Hallie of Cotovatre’s house, Vertiger, and she couldn’t help wondering if it was standard acrosshochlenresidences. The elite houses she’d visited in high city had also shared the layout of a main residence and service buildings. It made even more sense out of the city, where Hallie imagined that there might be messy and noisy activities necessary for running a large house, even if she couldn’t quite imagine what they were. The outbuildings could also house servants, so all the grubby day-to-day things could be kept outside, where they would be less disruptive tothe elite owners. And also run less risk of damage to the main property if something went wrong.
Although the ground immediately around the house might once have held gardens, they were long gone. There wasn’t even a single weed in sight. Instead, the space around the house was bare ground, punctuated here and there with what looked like old-fashioned oil lanterns. Hallie frowned at them, trying to work out why Jonah would waste time and resources on something as frivolous and decorative as oil lanterns. Then she remembered the deep dark of the nights on the island, and the press of the huge trees around her. Once the sun disappeared, even a full moon on a clear night probably wouldn’t provide enough light for humans to navigate. So the lanterns were there to accommodate humans outside after dark. Which meant that was a regular occurrence. Patrols? That made sense. There were no boundary walls here, nothing to stop someone doing what Hallie had done and working their way up the hill to get within sight of the house. The traps she’d come across would stop a few people, no doubt, but not everyone.
And if Jonah was careful, there might well be patrols during the day as well. No sooner had she realised that than she heard voices and the tread of heavy-soled boots. She ducked down further, flat to the forest floor, completely swallowed by the great shadow of the tree, and pulled the collar of her jacket up to hide her face so only her eyes would be visible.
A pair of men came into view around the corner of the building. From their direction of travel, it looked like they were walking the perimeter. They were dressed in the same filthy, casual clothing that she’d seen on Vinny and his group, and each carrying a weapon with casual ease. She didn’t recognise either of them, but then she hadn’t got a good look at the men who’d been outside New Hope in the night. This pair looked young. Well past the innocence of their teenage years, but notscarred or battle-worn enough to be veterans. And even though they had been assigned a patrol duty, they clearly didn’t expect any trouble. Hallie was quite sure that more experienced thugs would have known to keep their chatter to a minimum. This pair were talking in normal voices, their words carrying easily to where she was hiding, and not paying much attention to their surroundings.
“I asked Jonah to get on the next boat,” the first speaker said. He had dark hair shorn close to his skull.
The wordsnext boatrang around Hallie’s head and piqued her interest. She hadn’t realised there was any kind of regular shipping to the island. But this wasn’t the island. This was Jonah and his operation, which seemed quite separate from everyone else.
“What? Why? Easy gig.” The second man had long dark hair pulled back in a knot at the nape of his neck. Hallie mentally named him Knot and the other No-knot.
“Easy? Try boring,” No-knot said. “Food’s rubbish. Power doesn’t work half the time. There’s no net. No TV.”
Hallie’s ears pricked up again. So, Jonah’s base had at least one boat, and access to some kind of power.
“Yeah. But we get fed, we get paid, and the locals are too scared to fight us. Easy,” Knot replied.
