Hoods and Bots: Part Fourteen by Irena Szirtes

credit: Canva/Irena Szirtes

 I remember collapsing on the back seat of the vehicle, then memories are fragments: darkness, intermittent whispers, arms propping me up as I half walked, half stumbled through relentless pain; engines, snatches of conversation; reviving hot liquid in a paper cup.  But all that seemed a world away when my eyes fully opened. I began to register a sling on my arm, bandages around my ribs, the duvet that covered me where I lay on a couch. The lamps were dim; I could just make out pale stars through a gap between curtains. Where had the day gone? Victor’s staring eyes kept accusing me through the gloom, and I tried to dismiss them, focusing on the low voices nearby: Carla, Roland, and a voice I didn’t recognise. But tides of relief were washing my entire being. I was alive, and in much less pain. I risked Victor’s eyes when I closed mine again: he was dead, and hadn’t he told me not to come? But I dismissed him again, aware I was befuddled, unsure of anything except, at least for now, I felt safe. I wasn’t ready to speak, to let them know I was awake. Being cocooned in duvet felt so delicious.

“I don’t want her travelling to Gloucestershire yet,” the unknown voice was saying. “Her body needs time to heal, not to mention her emotions and mind.”

“Gosia’s right,” Carla answered, “and Mia’s her patient now.”

“But we can’t... stay here,” Roland put in. “Even if the Bots aren't on to us, we’d put Carla...  in danger. Injuries like those... draw attention.”

I heard Doctor Gosia ask, “Carla? Any suggestions?”

“My cousin Lin and her partner have that safe-house – High Tarn Farm, the other side of Sedbergh. It’s one of the best safe houses we’ve got, up a steep track on the fell - the Bots never venture that far.  We could send them there for a while.” 

“Sounds good,” Roland said.  “But there’s another problem... the vehicle. It’s  registered to Victor. If it’s seen with us, and they’re... looking for him, following his check out from...  Enemy HQ,  we’re  dead.” 

“Leave it to us”, the doctor said. “We’ll get it moved to some obscure  location to deepen the mystery of his disappearance. Carla, can you arrange  transport up there? What’s the plan to move them undetected?”

“Nothing fancy, I’m afraid - tarpaulin in the back of a truck, usually, so it won’t be a comfortable ride. Do you think Mia will be ok? It'll  take weeks for those cracked ribs and broken bones to heal, and she’s covered in bumps and bruises.”

“I’ll make sure she has pain relief,” the doctor said.  “And supply everything  else she’ll need. The pain killers are strong at this stage, and her body will demand healing sleep. She’ll probably sleep despite the discomfort.”

“She’s been in...  shock, survival mode. But she’s brave. She endured worse than...  a truck. I’ll... look after her.” 

“Love her to bits,” Carla said, and I smiled inside, warmed by such  unexpected affection from someone I hardly knew. “I’d house her in a heartbeat if I could. I never did take to that Victor, though, even as a stand-in relative! But working for Parry? I tell you I never thought that, not for a single moment.”

“Parry be damned,” the doctor said, “his sort work for no one but  themselves, for themselves and for whoever pays the most.”

“But what about the info on Resistance bases?” Carla  went on. “What if they access it?”

“It’s not on their... systems. Victor wasn’t ready to... share it, and he wasn’t  employed by Parry.  He was freelance, so they couldn’t stop him...  using a password. There’s AI working on it...  as we speak.” 

“Nonetheless,  leadership will surely have to move plans forward, in case he stored it elsewhere,”  the doctor said. They all seemed agreed on that.

 I wondered what Roland had told them about himself, about all that had happened. Too much knowledge would be dangerous, too little would hinder trust.  I remember thinking he had plenty practice in deception, that perhaps his life and deception were forever entangled. Then I sunk back into deep dreamless sleep.