Hour 12: Elevenses
After hours of walking, it was with some relief that Amber Canton found the perfect hideout, from where she could escape the outside world for a while. The dirt road had led her to a croft, some short way away from the north eastern coast of Caphraig. A few sheep still grazed on the land, the former owners of the farm having been apparently unable to remove them when they were evicted. They took little notice of the solitary figure approaching the small bungalow that sufficed as the dwelling house.
Hurrying inside, she saw the cottage looked as though it had been robbed; it seemed more spacious from within than it had done from outside, but clutter was everywhere, as though the previous occupants did not have much time to gather things together. Ornaments and other personal possessions were scattered across the shelves and floor, and the kitchen had been gutted – anything resembling food or drink had was gone, the fridge door hanging open. Despite the state of the place however, it would be safe. She could hide here.
It was tempting to light a fire to make the place a bit warmer, given the stone walls didn't appear to be very well insulated, but Amber knew better. A stone chimney meant she'd be too easily found if she did that. The temperature was the least of her concerns, though. Still, a nice warm body to heat her up wouldn't have gone amiss. Like that of Charlotte Turner, her best friend in the world. Amber had to wonder what had happened to her since the game began. Was she alone and frightened as Amber was? Was she dead, or in pain?
No, no, none of those things could have been true. She was happy, safe and secure, which was where she should have been, if not in Amber's arms. They'd been friends for years – she'd never had many, but Charlotte wasn't like other people. Charlotte was forever lost in her own little world, but she'd take Amber with her and together they'd forget all about the ugliness of real life.
Having barricaded the front door with the small sofa from the living room (after struggling to push it past the clutter) and the back door with the kitchen table, Amber found herself in a bedroom in which she intended hiding for a while. It was one of two, the other being fitted as a parents' room while the one she was in must have belonged to a child. As with every other room, possessions were strewn about, which saddened her.
As Amber looked around the room, something caught her eye for reasons she couldn't quite explain. It was a book on the floor. It looked well worn, having clearly been loved very dearly. The old cover simply had the title – Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. Seeing this reminded her of a simpler time, back home.
Amber was twelve again, as were Charlotte and Alyssa Davids. They both liked Aly a lot, having been friends with her for a few years even by those early days of high school. It was a rainy day in the summer between S1 and S2, and the three girls were in Amber's room, which was a colourful refuge from the world. Nothing negative or bad was ever allowed inside; even when bad news came, she'd never accept hearing it in there.
It was Alice's tales that they were talking about that day. All three of them had always loved the book; how could anyone not?
"Why don't we really live in Wonderland? It's much nicer than here!"
"You're always saying that, Charlotte." Four years later, she still was. "But you're right, and we should. I don't think we can, though; none of us know where it is!" Amber had known that all along, but it wouldn't be for a couple of years that she would finally stop looking. Aly had never been so naïve, but Charlotte had never stopped.
"Yes, I'm always saying it, because we should. If we could, what would you have there? If you could pick anything?" Oh, to be so carefree again. Charlotte had never given that up, and Amber wished she could do the same. It was one of the reasons why she loved to be around her, because it put her back in that place. Amber remembered in that moment how she'd answered the question, and it pained her.
"Most important for me would be that you'd be there with all the other nice people and creatures, and none of you would ever leave."
"Don't think we'd want to anyway. As long as we went there after Alice beat the Jabberwock. That thing's kinda scary!" Aly had been a little quiet, which admittedly was quite common.
Even though she'd always been very close to Amber and Charlotte, there was something slightly awkward about Aly when they hung out like that. It had always been that way, and it had never been clear why. Over the years, they'd drifted slightly apart. They were still close friends, but Emily Green and Manuel Noles were seen with her more often of late. That, however, wasn't something Amber wanted to dwell on right now. Emily was nice though, when she wasn't stressing herself out too much from studying. Aly was quite studious; that was probably how they became such good friends.
But Amber couldn't really be bothered with that. She probably should have done, to improve her life, but it looked like her choosing to just have fun whenever she could find it had proven to be…no! Not now! Life is more than studying. That's why I did it.
"Oh yeah, we'd definitely be there afterwards, when everything's nice and happy again!"
"Charlotte, I love that smile! And thinking about it, maybe it would be exciting in its own way to go on that adventure? I mean, my friends would be with me, I'd have lots of help, and the prophecy says that Alice wins! So there wouldn't be anything to worry about after all."
"Even for a scaredy cat like you, Aly?" Amber had been a little surprised by that from her at the time, but it became clearer later; she wanted to be something in life, perhaps even the hero in her own adventure. Given the chance, she could probably come out of her shell eventually. Aly just returned the remark with a slightly guilty smile.
"What about you, Charlotte? What would be in your fantasy world? Mine would be the adventure, as long as you were there."
Charlotte hadn't responded for five full minutes; she'd been lost in the fantasy. A knowing look exchanged between Aly and Amber said it all, really. The answer to the question was that everything and nothing would be in her world. Nothing had changed, nor would it likely ever. When she finally did speak again, it was with unrelenting joy at the prospect of it being true. Not for one moment did the idea that it wouldn't cross her mind.
As Amber finished carefully flicking through the pages of the book, she once again found herself on Caphraig. She had to wonder if Charlotte perhaps had a point. After all, the real world was harsh and scary. But Wonderland? Bad things just couldn't happen there. Sooner or later, the time would come for Amber to move on. But not yet. She was all alone and secure now, and happy because of it. She could make herself even happier by returning once again to that magical place on the other side of the looking glass, if only for a while.
It was with a strange air of confidence that the stocky, imposing boy named Scott Irving walked on Caphraig's northern side. He was going nowhere in particular, but that did not bother him. He had no need to decide where he wanted to go, knowing that his path would reveal itself soon enough.
Scott was a peculiarity in a generation and in a town suffering no shortage of such. His family were unremarkable, his mother a nurse and his father a painter and decorator. Their children yearned for the spotlight, however, one brother failing to achieve this but the other succeeding through being a young music star. Young to the degree to which such things were permissible in the modern era, anyway – being 4 years older than Scott, he had passed the age of responsibility.
Scott himself, however, had more practical goals. He was a politician and a philosopher, and spent much of his free time reviewing and refining his beliefs. An entire shelf on his bookcase at home was devoted to his essays and critiques; some day, he would get the chance to showcase them to the world. They were the backbone of his existence – he didn't understand how people could live without understanding how and why they did so.
Of course, such interests were hardly in the social mainstream, and his isolation from his peers was greater even than that of the others in his group. Not that he cared; tact and personal likability among the masses being irrelevant at this stage of his life. His friends could provide the PR, while he provided the message and, where necessary, the muscle. The message was all that mattered anyway, and he was plenty confident in that.
While not a particularly religious person, this had less to do with his belief in God – he was a Catholic – than his belief that it wasn't his duty to serve him. As he saw it, a being which one could reasonably define as God had to exist, as it was that being that had determined his destiny. He'd believed in fate since he was young, and as time passed he'd been increasingly convinced of the inevitability of it.
As it was 11am, he'd paused his search for his friends to consider this over elevenses. It was a shame he didn't have any tea to hand, but a can of Coke and a sweet from his collection made for a more interesting snack than his captors had provided.
The sugar and caffeine coursing through him further improved Scott's mood. It's my legacy. Our legacy. We've been together for years, and nothing's going to change. Well, one thing might change – they would be legends. Gods among young people! So many in the activist community abhorred the Anti-Clique for not striking hard and fast when it supposedly mattered. So many liked to say that just before they did something stupid that got them arrested. Oh how the tables would turn, though, when they witnessed the unmitigated humiliation of the Government's greatest crime against this generation. Popularity. Notoriety. Influence. All of those and more would be theirs.
It would start with Adam; a plan was clearly already gestating in his mind. Loathe as he was to admit it, Scott was a little unsure of where to start. But why should he worry about that when Adam clearly knew what he was doing? Driven by a thirst for vengeance for Zoey, the man must have been preparing for the attack.
They others presumably were doing likewise. Kim, for example, had issues, but she was strong, and there was no doubt in Scott's mind that she would overcome them. Alcohol was a dangerous master, but Kim was a slave to no one – she was just biding her time before she overcame it.
When it came to it, these were supposed to be a tough few days, but Scott couldn't see it that way. A couple of people had died, but they were either extremely unlucky or just asking for it anyway. His friends were all okay, and that was how they would remain. Scott would find them, finalise and enact their plan, and there was nothing anyone could do about it.
It was a comforting thought, and one that had gotten him through many otherwise difficult times. Knowing that it was all about to come to fruition actually excited Scott – his destiny was about to be revealed at long last. You know, I really don't care what anyone else says; life is, and has always been, pretty damn good.
It was turning out to be rather a nice day, and Valerie Woolfe was determined to at least try and make something of it. Of course, the circumstances were meant to be different, and Stefano was supposed to be with her, but relaxing on Caphraig was what she'd wanted to do anyway. So ignoring the road flare in her bag and the now unnecessary inconvenience of her purchases in Oban yesterday, that was what she was going to do.
Val was an athletic girl with shoulder-length brown hair and eyes to match. For those who were into sporty-types, she was as attractive as they came. There was something about the stereotypical sultry Italian in her appearance, though her personality didn't match this; she was down-to-earth, tried to be rational where possible, but found as often as not that her naïveté was her downfall. She was difficult to dislike, and equally couldn't bring her to dislike many from her class. Life was too short for hate.
It seemed a weird thing to do, but she had the urge to sunbathe, while the wind wasn't too strong. Resting her head on her bag, she was taking the time to enhance her already impressive tan. It hadn't been long, however, before a curious figure came into view. It was skipping and dancing, faintly singing or humming to itself, and stopping when it noticed Val.
"Hello, Val! We don't really know each other, but I want to play a game!" That was a little direct, but coming from Charlotte Turner, that wasn't surprising.
Charlotte had Asperger's Syndrome, though that alone didn't account for the fact that she was one of the stranger girls in the year. Still, she was also completely harmless, and her perky attitude suggested she was doing the same thing as Val by trying to have fun. With Charlotte exuding a look of anticipation, Val couldn't help herself but stand up.
"Okay, why not? What sort of game did you have in mind?" Val returned the smile with quizzical curiosity. Charlotte didn't seem to have anticipated the question, and looked uncertain.
"Oh, I don't know, really. I'm just happy for some reason. It's a nice day in a nice place, and since I've found you, I don't have to be lonely any more! No one wants to be lonely. People should take more time to just have fun and play with each other, right?" Charlotte was still skipping about, almost on the spot. Her cheerfulness was infectious, and in the circumstances it was very welcome, as far as Val was concerned. That said, there was something about her that seemed even stranger than usual. It was slightly off-putting in its own way, but presumably wasn't worth thinking about.
"What's that you've got in your hand there?" For some reason, Val had only just noticed it. Charlotte lit up.
"Oh! It's my new toy, would you like to see it? Wait, where did it…ah, there it is!"
It was a remote, apparently, for a racing car that Charlotte had allowed to drift behind her. She laughed as she drove it at a surprising speed right past Val, then circled her a few times before stopping at Charlotte's feet. Was that seriously what passed for a "weapon"? Of all the people she could have run into, someone so innocently nice was a good result for Val.
Trusting people wasn't something she was particularly good at, having been bullied extensively in primary school before finally coming out of her shell in high school. Being friends with Shanae Preston helped with that, as she would gleefully scare off anyone who might threaten her. And of course, there was Stefano. It had taken her so long to realise how she truly felt about him, but every time she thought about him it seemed like another, previously forgotten, time when he'd been there for her in years gone by was remembered. Still, when it came to Charlotte, she was perfectly harmless.
"Do you like it?"
No, I don't really. Running is something that I'd rather see people do than cars. But who am I to judge? "Yeah, it's quite cute in its own way." It was slightly unfortunate that every question Charlotte asked seemed to be done so with a tone of "please tell me what I want to hear or I'll burst into tears". Best just to smile and nod though.
"I like it. And I like you! It's a shame we never got to know each other before."
"Aww, you're alright yourself. Yeah, it is really, but I guess we both always had our own sets of friends, so we never ran into each other much."
"And now we won't ever get the chance to change things…" She now looked upset. Weird as this all was, seeing as they had nothing in common and would almost certainly never speak again after high school, this negativity still nonetheless wasn't appealing.
"Let's not think about that right now, we don't need to do that for ages yet. You said you wanted to play a game, so let's do it! We can play together for a while, while there's no one else here."
"I thought you'd never ask!" That had been easy enough. Unfortunately, however, Charlotte's idea of a game involved running rings around her with the remote control car, following her with it when she tried to move away. Not having any other ideas right now, she thought it best to play along for now, leaving her bag where it had been on the grass.
"So what are the rules here?" Val was hoping for an answer beyond 'I chase you for a while.'
"Rules? Oh, Valerie…you spend too much time on the track! This is a game, not a sport. There are no rules. We're happy, we're free, we're doing what we want to do!" That wasn't the most reassuring of replies, it had to be said. "If I run after you, do you think I can catch you? You're faster than me, but I think I can do it!"
"I'm not so sure about that, but you're welcome to try!" She probably didn't have a choice, but it was best to play along. After all, it was only Charlotte!
It was as Val ran that she finally saw it. It had escaped her, but it had always been there. The missing piece of the puzzle, the part of this that didn't make sense. Now, she realised. Now, she looked deeply into Charlotte's eyes, which were trained on her own. What she saw was pure darkness. The lost smile now returned to her lips, but something had changed; it didn't mean now what it did before. Unless…this was what it had always meant.
As the colour drained from her olive face, her dancing turned to flight. Get away…run away, fly away. She didn't know what Charlotte was doing, but she couldn't afford to spend any more time around her. That damn car, what's with that thing?
It was faster than Val was. An ugly but presumably harmless piece of plastic, it was chasing her to some unknown end. This wasn't a game anymore, no matter what the crazed girl thought!
But by the time she'd thought to flee, it had been too late. As the car swerved around and through her legs, she tripped, falling to the ground seconds later as it slammed into her leg. Val was in pain, but Charlotte, standing a reasonable distance away, continued to run it into her. Val screamed for her to stop, but Charlotte didn't even seem to know she was being spoken to anymore.
It was not long before Val's screams were silenced forever. A cloud of plastic, metal, rubber, flesh and blood roared into the air as Charlotte flicked a switch on the remote, detonating the car's payload of C-4 explosive. In that instant, seventeen years of life disappeared, Valerie Woolfe's body rendered almost unrecognisable by the explosion.
The game having ended, Charlotte walked over to her victim. She'd won. But the smile that had briefly adorned her face was gone, for she did not feel happy, as she should have done. Val was easy and fun to play with, because she wanted to. She was nice like that. But what about people who weren't? They would have to be persuaded, perhaps with her new toy, which she took from Val's bag. She knew that wouldn't be easy, given some of her classmates.
As Charlotte gathered her bag and walked away, she huddled into herself, looking up to the sky. It was the middle of the day, but she was sure she could see something big and black. It might have been her imagination; right now, she couldn't tell the difference. It was like a vulture, and its dark wings were descending upon her. Charlotte needed to find someone else to play with, and quickly.