Stray by Rachael Craw

run?”
    He flicks his black eyes at me and then turns away to the desk. “I did.” He returns with the silver revolver thing.
    I stare at his remarkable face, his high cheekbones and strong jaw. I try to visualise him with Jamie, sitting, laughing, watching television, playing sport, anything vaguely normal, anything other than what he’s doing right now, alone with me. I wonder how old he is. Older than Jamie, maybe twenty-five, twenty-six? I wonder what his life looked like before extracting terrified young men and women from hiding, drugging them, marking them, stuffing them into the backs of vans, became his job. “If I were pregnant,” I say, “this would …”
    “Terminate the pregnancy.”
    “Why do you care?”
    His mouth compresses. “The Holy Mother sits in your hall. Shouldn’t you care?”
    “It belonged to my grandmother.”
    He shrugs.
    “You would have let someone else do it,” I say. Am I trying to bait him?
    He taps something on the handle, the barrel splits in two. He presses the long top of the T-bar to my abdomen and I flinch against the cold.
    “I would have,” he says.
    It beeps once and he moves it slowly down, searching for the right spot.
    “Not much of a stand.”
    “That’s what Helena says.” He moves the instrument until it beeps a long continuous note. Something clicks and the note stops. A faint rushing sound follows.
    I draw a shuddering breath. “What’s she like?”
    “Helena?” He watches the silver instrument. “Smart, clever, kind.”
    “Beautiful.”
    “She is one of us. Hold still.”
    I close my eyes, again with tears. “They could be happy together.”
    “They could have been.”
    I look at him.
    “His chance is gone and so is hers,” he says.
    I struggle up on my elbows. “What are you talking about?”
    “Lie still.” He pushes me back. “You know this. You have been with him. When Synergists bond their signals bind also. It cannot be undone.”
    “But–” I knew there were binding words, a ceremony and such, but Miriam never said … Jamie never said … “When you say, been with–”
    “I will release the gauge, you will be paralysed for a moment. It will hurt then you will be unconscious and you will feel nothing.”

SANCTION
    A colossal crash wakes me, then raised voices, Miriam’s angry exclamation as she hurries out of my bedroom and down the stairs. I lurch up. Bad idea. My head throbs, my pelvis aches, the back of my neck burns; I can’t have been out long. Hostile voices echo from the hall below. I swing my feet off the bed and fumble for my jeans. By the time I get my pants on – a stiff, stinging exercise bending over tender skin – the voices have cooled. Silent, hunched, I tiptoe out onto the landing.
    “Perhaps we could make an effort not to damage the Assets.” Tesla.
    Davis pants and spits, his voice muffled. “He broke my nose, sir.”
    “You provoked him.”
    “Gallagher’s out of his mind,” Davis says.
    Tesla sighs. “Mr Nelson, check Jamie’s tracker. Make sure it has not dislodged.”
    The sound of movement.
    “I’ll pack the van.” Davis. Heavy shuffling steps.
    “Ridiculous.” Felicity clicks her tongue.
    “The incision’s closed,” Benjamin says. “The tracker’s still in place.”
    “Thank you. You can help Davis.”
    “Sir, I’m not sure anyone can help Davis.”
    Benjamin’s long even stride, Felicity’s short steps behind him. Movement in the kitchen. The back door opens and closes.
    Silence.
    Carefully, I lower myself to the floor. It’s too painful to lie on my stomach so I shift onto my side, jamming my head up against the skirting for a glimpse of what’s going on. Through a triangle of space between the ceiling and stairs I see the bookcase in the hall has lost a shelf and all of Miriam’s books, collectibles and junk mail are scattered across the floor. The Virgin teeters on the edge of her porcelain robes in the little alcove. Tesla crouches on the floor picking things up.