Hurricane Heart

Hurricane

I accelerated until we were in the fastest car on the road, driving for the rest of the day until we reached the outskirts of Hanover, sometime in the late afternoon. It must have been the weekend, though I’d lost track of the days, because the city was bustling with people—groups of friends, families and lone shoppers, all going about their business. Infants squealed in their pushchairs; shiny plastic bags with names of all kinds of shops bumped the knees of passers-by as they meandered down the crowded pavements; cafes and bars were full, many people spilling out onto the tables outside because of the pleasantly warm weather, enjoying sandwiches and cakes and coffee.

I felt so detached from this normal world that I could have been an alien from another planet. It was so many years since I’d last strolled down a high street at a leisurely pace, probably with my friends, carrying several plastic carrier bags with the names of clothes shops—fashionable clothes shops, all selling near enough identical merchandise—and many other kinds of shops emblazoned across the front.

A sharp pang of envy suddenly filled my mind; jealousy at all these carefree people walking down the street, smiling, laughing, chatting, enjoying themselves. They were happy.

And yet I was running for my life. I was sitting in a car having kidnapped and held at gunpoint a young man who I did not even know, fleeing at top speed from a group of people quite happy to kill me, confined to the shadows because of my artificially coloured hair and strange sense of clothing.

Was this really what I wanted to do with my life?

I hated myself for thinking such things. I was not that girl anymore. I was Hurricane. I had given myself a new name; a new identity; as I had changed myself almost beyond recognition. Because happiness only ever meant that the following day would be dark. Happiness meant sadness. Happiness was hollow.

These people were not carefree; they were ignorant. They were not happy—not truly fulfilled; they just didn’t know a life any different from the ones they currently led. But I did. I had seen adventure and I had seen beauty and I had seen ambition. And I could never leave that behind. I had left everything else behind, in order to make way for these new things. And what was life for, if not for dreaming?

I turned into a side road between two high-rise buildings, making sure it was deserted before I stepped out. There was a small, virtually unused entrance into the subway not so far away. It was the perfect location for us Dreamers to use.

Arjan followed, standing around, peering cautiously down the street as though he expected Soulless to come charging down after us. Of course, no such thing happened. However, I was going prepared in another way. I left my bag in the car, hiding it, more from the Soulless than from robbers—there were virtually no robbers nowadays—and grabbed my phone and stuffed it into the pocket of my tight, grey jeans. The Dreamers would have food and there were going to be more important things than changing our clothes in the morning. However, as well as taking my favourite stun-gun, I also took a second, this time one with bullets. I chose my one over the one I had stolen from Scarrus because it was lighter and less cumbersome, but either would be sufficient.

‘Come on,’ I said briskly, glancing briefly behind before hurrying down to the dead end of the road where the little subway entrance was.

‘Get down,’ I said, surveying the area one more time to make sure we were going unnoticed.

It was only once I was down there that I realised I had no idea where to go. I’d never actually stayed with the Dreamers in Hanover. So, despite the pride I was always told I possessed too much of, I gave in and did what I always did when I was in trouble: I phoned Carl.

‘Hallo,’ he said in German, picking up on the third ring.

‘It’s me,’ I said.

‘Oh,’ he said, reverting back to English. ‘Hi Hurricane.’

‘What do you know about the Dreamers in Hanover?’ I asked.

‘Er, what do you want me to find out?’ he replied indirectly.

‘Well, where are they?’ I said. ‘We’re in Hanover right now—‘

‘You’re in Hanover?’ he exclaimed. ‘Damn, you get around quickly.’

‘Yes,’ I continued curtly, ignoring him for the most part, ‘and I have reason to suspect we’re being pursued by Soulless. I thought we could take refuge under the city with them tonight. Of course, if the Soulless come, we’re still gonna have to fight them regardless, but it’s worth a try. I’m not normally one for safety in numbers, but it might actually work for once.’

‘I never thought I’d hear you say that,’ Carl said.

‘Don’t milk it,’ I muttered.

‘Where are you?’ he asked. ‘There are about five main entrances into the subway in the inner city—‘

‘Yeah, we’re already down there,’ I said a little dismissively. ‘We just went down into the subway on Vierzehnten Allee.’ Damn, road names really had suffered after the Revolution. When was the last time I’d heard a road being called Nightingale Lane or Rose Street? They used to be given names like that, but apparently that was far too much like imagination. Now they were all just numbers; Fourteenth Alley was the one we were currently in.

‘Ah,’ I heard Carl say in a musing tone, and even over the phone I could hear the rattling of his beloved computer keyboard.

I heard him call out to someone on his end of the line.

‘Hey, Jonas!’ he cried, his voice muffled over the line. Although I couldn’t see anything that was going on, it was evident that Jonas happened to be in the study at the time.

‘I’m going to put Jonas on to you,’ he said back into the phone.

‘Hi Hurricane,’ came Jonas’s voice, inappropriately cheerfully.

‘Hello Jonas,’ I replied in a much more curt fashion.

‘Yeah, well I’ve been to the Dreamers in Hanover before,’ he began. ‘It was about a year ago, so they might have moved around a bit, but Carl’s got some rough coordinates up on his computer, and I can still remember some stuff. Anyway, go along the tunnel from Vierzehnten Allee; keep going until there’s a fork. Then turn right, and at the next turning, go right again. Go down some stairs, and carry on for a while. After that, there will be a few doors. Knock on the third one on the left. If the code’s still the same, it will be 26659, but it might be completely different after this time—no, wait, Carl’s just got it up. No; it’s now 31683.’

‘Ok, great,’ I said, repeating, the key words in my mind. It was simple really: right, right, third on left, 31683. 31683...31683.

‘Call me if you get stuck again,’ he said, and I could detect a wistful mocking in his voice. He clearly hoped I would call, just so that he could get one up on me.

Thankfully, with a little help from Arjan at remembering the five digit code, we made it to this ‘third door on the left.’ Opening it, I found a small lobby on the other side, and another door with a keypad beside it.

I tapped in the number, and the lock clicked open. Simple.

Inside the room, it was deserted. I’d never been down here before, so I had no way of knowing what it was supposed to be like or where everyone was. I knew it was a small base, though, so I didn't expect there to be too much activity.

I also noticed Arjan tense up beside me, looking more and more uncomfortable with every step we took into slightly more conventional Dreamer territory. I made sure to close the door behind me, shuffling further in, turning right along the corridor, because I could have sworn there were faint sounds coming from down there.

We were in luck. Further down the corridor, about six Dreamers sat clustered around a battered old TV set showing a slightly grainy version of a film. This was typically what a lot of us did on our days off.

At about the same moment we entered, another woman practically ran in, stopping comically and freezing when she saw us.

‘Wer sind Sie?’ she asked, perplexed. ‘Wie heiβen Sie?’

I pulled a face. ‘Sorry. I should have phoned, but I didn’t know the number.’

The group watching TV turned to stare at us.

‘Are you Hurricane?’ the woman asked in a strong German accent.

‘Yeah,’ I said. She smiled, growing more relaxed. Presumably, Carl or the Master or someone had phoned her, confirming that the unexpected visitors were not Soulless or government agents in disguise.

She looked at Arjan, and her gentle eyes grew abruptly colder. ‘And you must be Arjan.’

‘Yes,’ he confirmed. Suddenly I was concerned.

From down the corridor, a much more powerful man strode in. He was wearing a long trench coat, and had dark hair cut to shape around his face. He looked probably in his forties, and he had a powerful presence, almost as much as I did.

‘Our guests, I understand,’ he said. ‘I hear you’re being followed?’ His tone was unfriendly and cold.

‘Yes,’ I said.

‘You’ve brought a civilian into a Dreamer base, you understand Hurricane,’ he said. ‘Not to mention putting all of us at risk.’

I already didn’t like this man. He was obviously the leader of this group of thirty or so Dreamers, and making an enemy of the boss was never good if you wanted to get accepted somewhere. I fought back through my memories to try and remember what the Master had told me this man was called so long ago.

One of the men clustered around the screen stood up.

‘They ain’t gonna hurt us, Otto,’ he said. His tone and accent told me he wasn’t from round here. ‘And besides, from what I’ve gathered from speaking on the phone to Carl, the guy already knows enough about us anyway.’

‘He’s been shown the entrance into a Dreamer base!’ Otto fumed.

I raised my eyebrows. The support of this mysterious stranger gave me a sudden surge of confidence.

‘Don’t worry Otto,’ I said, my tone cool and almost cocky. ‘I ain’t letting him get away.’

The other man turned to me. He had short, dark, slightly shaggy hair and looked like he hadn’t shaved for a couple of days, and he was wearing an oversized, navy blue hoodie, but other than his appearance he seemed like a nice guy.

‘Hey, I’m Felix,’ he said.

‘Hi Felix,’ I said curtly. I couldn’t make friends with him in any way. It was even harder when they were nice to you, but I had to ignore it. It had always been my policy. Carl was considered my ‘friend,’ but I wasn’t exactly about to jump in front of a bullet for him. Our friendship only went to about the extent of harmless, jokey chat and a few laughable moments.

Otto gave me a stern look. If I was a weaker person, I would have withered under his laser-like glare, but I was not weak. I was the Hurricane.

‘At the first sign of the Masked Ones, you get out of here.’ His tone sounded like a threat. I shook my head with a sigh.

‘I’m not here to try and endanger anyone,’ I said. ‘Help if you want; run if you prefer. I just ask that we stay here overnight.’

‘What, until they’ve caught up with you?’ he challenged.

‘They’ve caught up already!’ I said irritably. ‘But if they come for us and we’re in a hotel, someone—whether it’s a resident or a staff member or the watchers of the CCTV—will see us, and they will come and arrest us.’

Otto grunted, turning away slightly.

‘You can stay. But if I tell you to leave, you leave.’

‘I’m not planning on outstaying my welcome,’ I muttered. It probably wasn’t too quiet for him to hear, but he didn’t respond anyway.

‘And you keep your pet on a leash!’ he snapped. ‘I’m all for recruiting new Dreamers, but this isn’t a Dreamer; this is a hostage. And all the time he remains a hostage, he holds no obligation to fight for us. Therefore, if he is ever allowed to go, or if he escapes, there’s no knowing whose side he’ll be on. We’ve got prison cells here—‘

‘No!’ I cried sharply, stunning everyone into silence. Arjan, who was yet to speak, looked at me, his eyebrows furrowed over his gentle eyes, an expression of confusion on his face. Felix, Otto and the other people in the room looked confused too. If Carl had told them anything about me, I evidently wasn’t living up to their expectations.

‘You’d better keep a good eye on him then, girl,’ Otto grumbled. His mood today clearly wasn’t good, although I didn’t actually have anything to compare it to as I’d never met him before. ‘This is the Hideaway. This place is secret. And as that it will stay.’

Without waiting for a reply, he did a sharp turn and strode down the corridor. Felix gave me an apologetic look.

‘Sorry, he ain’t always like this. But we nearly got broken into just last week—there were Marauders prowling around upstairs, and we were quarantined in here like animals for days until they left. And ever since the London disaster, things have been tight. And there was a break-in in Toulouse too—have you heard?’

‘What?’ I cried. Even Arjan echoed my shock, and he had little idea what we were talking about. ‘No.’

‘There was,’ Felix said, backing up his own statement. 'It happened three days ago apparently—we got the news yesterday. Three people were kidnapped by the Marauders, so no one has seen them since, but it’s only a small place. Still though; three people. And one of them has been in the Institution twice before already...’ he trailed off.

‘That’s...terrible,’ I said, allowing a brief release of shock, sorrow and empathy into my body before locking it all up again. ‘Is that one...you know.’ I couldn’t bring myself to even use the word ‘Operation.’

Felix nodded. ‘I expect so, though nothing’s been confirmed yet. Of course, if he has family somewhere they can appeal for his release, but when has that ever changed anything? He's called Pierre something-or-other; early thirties. You know him?’

‘No,’ I said, my voice thick and cold with the effort to lock away all feeling. ‘But that doesn’t make it any better.’

Felix shook his head. ‘I’m not saying it does. Anyway, you want to come and watch the film with us? It’s quite good—it’s called Terminator.’

‘No,’ I said definitely, then adding a ‘thanks,’ meekly on the end as an afterthought. ‘I need some time to think. Arjan?’

‘Yeah?’ he asked, unsure what I was getting at.

‘Are you coming or staying?’

‘Oh,’ he said, slightly shocked. Subconsciously, I realised that this must be the first time he’d been given a choice in anything more important than what to have for breakfast for weeks. ‘Er, do you need me?’

‘No,’ I said.

‘Maybe I could stay here then?’ he suggested.

‘Sure.’ Without another word, I turned and walked off, hoping to find any spare room, but ideally one with a computer already set up. I didn’t need Felix to show me where to go.