“Yes.” Alex gazed at the photo of Solange, studying her wistful face. “This is Solange, my best friend.”
“She’s a beautiful girl.”
“Yes.” Alex traced his fingers over the photo. “She keeps me alive.”
“How so?”
Alex hesitated, then answered honestly. “Before the course began, when I was here all alone, I used to come here every day and decide whether to throw myself off this clifftop.” Two took a sharp intake of breath. Alex turned to glance at him. “I think of this place as Solange’s spot, because I always chose to live – and it was because of her.”
“The thought of seeing her again?”
“No. She’s dead. She was the one who helped me escape, and she paid for it with her life; my houder killed her.”
Two went very still. “What happened?”
“Tyler captured me and beat me so hard for trying to escape that I nearly died.”
“I’ve seen the scars on your back, and I wondered how you came by them,” Two murmured.
“He put them there. She tried to stop him, so he hit her, and she fell and cracked her head and died. He wrapped her body in a rug and threw her into the water like she was nothing to hide his crime. She was a lovely, funny, warm person, but her life didn’t matter because to him she was just some Quarterlands whore he’d bought to entertain his guests.”
“Alex, this is terrible,” Two exclaimed. “Did you report him to the authorities?”
“Do you really think he’d let me do that? He kept me imprisoned at all times – and then he sent me here.” Alex turned to Two. “That’s how she keeps me alive. Solange Alajika was my friend; I’ll do whatever it takes to obtain justice for her.”
Two removed his arm from around Alex’s shoulders and pulled away from him. “Alex, why are you telling me this?” he asked quietly.
“Because your houder gives you far more freedom than mine, and I don’t know whether I’ll ever get out of here, or what state I’ll be in when I do. Maybe, somehow, they’ll squeeze all hope of getting justice for Solange out of me and turn me into the good little indie that Tyler wants me to be, so I’ll never speak out against him. You can, though,” he said urgently, gripping Two’s arm. “When you return home, you can go to an investigation agency and tell them what happened to Solange. Go to Joe. His full name is Josiah Raine. They said on the news that he’s an investigator at some agency called Inquisitus. Tell him. He’ll listen, I know he will.”
Two stared at him for a long time. “Do you always use the people who are kind to you?” he asked eventually. “I saw what happened to D, and now you’re trying to use me, too. Is that what you do, Alex? Is that who you are?”
“No.” Alex shook his head vehemently. “I’m just desperate! I swore I’d get justice for Solange, but how can I help her when I’m locked up in here, or in one of Tyler’s mansions?”
“I have no evidence,” Two protested. “If I went to an IA with this, they’d laugh me out of the room. Even if they took me seriously, do you really think Mr Tyler would allow me to make such accusations with impunity? Think, Alex – would he really?”
“I don’t know, but someone has to stop him.”
Two shook his head. “I’m a servant, Alex. I know my place – and I suggest you learn yours. There will always be people like George Tyler in the world, and we are powerless to resist.” He scrambled to his feet and looked down on Alex. “The strong always exploit the weak. All the weak can do is learn the skills necessary to survive. Give in and embrace your servitude, Alex – it’s the only way.”
Chapter Nine
OCTOBER 2095
Josiah
“Where would we go?” Alex asked, returning to the living room carrying a small bowl of water and a cloth to wash Josiah’s cut face.
“Initially, we’d stay with Liz, but not for long, as it’d put her in too much danger.”
Alex dabbed at the wound on his head, and Josiah was surprised by how much blood there was. He’d been so full of adrenaline during the fight that he hadn’t been in any pain, but now the immediate danger had passed, he realised his knuckles stung and his head ached.
“Could you get us both out without me being caught? My face is so well known.”
“Do you remember Emma James?” Josiah asked.
“The celebrity chef? The one who was murdered by her ex?”
“Yup. Her IS, Bram Janssen, was the only witness to the murder. He was so terrified by what he saw, and so terrified he’d be blamed, that he went on the run. I gave nightly news bulletins on sightings of him – for a few weeks, he was the most famous IS in the country.”
