Free Toxic Treacle by Echo Freer Page A

onto it. ‘See this bridge here?’ She pointed to a spot where the loco line went over the road next to a disused smallholding. ‘When you get to that, you need to come down and follow the road. Take a left at the first junction and that’ll bring you into Combe Magna.’ She checked her ring-cam. ‘You should do it in about an hour.’
    Monkey tried to argue but Angel was adamant. It would be a waste of time and energy, she said, if neither of them went. ‘Good luck. Let me know how you get on.’ Then, she did the unthinkable: she leant forward and gave him a peck on the cheek.
    Physical contact between pres was a crime more heinous than breaking curfew and drinking illegal keg - at the same time. In fact, fraternising with the opposite gender outside school hours was worse than almost anything else, apart from murder. Yet, Angel had done it. Her lips had actually made contact with his skin. And his mind was in turmoil. What had she meant by it? Was she letting him know that she would select him for breeding? And if so, shouldn’t he go after her?
    His mind went round and round while his feet stayed put until Angel merged with the night and her kiss was no more than a shadow on his memory.
    How long he’d remained still he didn’t know, but it was long enough for the cold to penetrate the soles of his shoes and seep up the muscles in his calves. He was startled back to consciousness by a crunching noise below and the sudden awareness that an armoured stealth was driving along the road that ran alongside the loco track. Monkey dodged down into the bushes and watched it rumble silently back towards town, squashing any fallen branches or broken concrete that lay in its path. A routine patrol no doubt but, nevertheless, a timely reminder to stay on his guard. He gave one last look along the track the way Angel had headed, then turned and walked in the other direction, out towards the rurals.
    By the time he reached the village, Monkey’s fingers were so numb with cold that they could barely turn the handle of the clockwork torch. He fumbled with his ring-cam to flash up the time: 22:15. It had taken far longer than Angel had anticipated. He wandered along the deserted street looking for... Looking for what? A sign saying, Tragic is here ? Like that was going to happen! He shivered as he walked slowly through the silence. A jumble of cottages huddled round a dark, open space. He had a distant memory of learning about the feudal system at alpha-school and thought it was probably a village green. It was clear that the place was inhabited from the lights glowing through the curtains of some of the houses, but by whom? And, if Tragic was here, which one was his? Now Monkey had found the place, how the hell did he go about finding his friend? He could hardly just knock on doors, asking. And that was even supposing that Angel had correctly guessed at the missing letters on the note. What if she’d been wrong? And, even if she’d been correct, perhaps Jane had told Tragic that they were going to Combe Magna as a decoy.
    Then another, more sinister, doubt bore its way into his mind, multiplying until it consumed everything else: what if he’d been set up? Wasn’t it just too convenient that she hadn’t spoken to him for days, then suddenly turned up the whereabouts of Tragic with reasoning powers bordering on genius? And, there was nothing weird about accompanying him halfway there, then suddenly having to turn back, was there? A pre-nurturer, daughter of a solicitor, friend of an assistant T.R.E.A.C.L.E. trainer, destined for The Assembly if she played her cards right, risking her entire future to mix with a hood, steal information and break curfew? He felt sick!
    His eyes flashed round the ramshackle houses, no longer warm and welcoming with their flickering glow but, now, potential traps. He scoured the hazy outlines of the cottages looking for signs of Security.