28: Archangel
Sannah's first impulse was to hide. She didn't want Dek to see her, not here, not like this. But wait, she told herself, why is he here? Sure, Dek was one of the wildest kids at school, but she was pretty sure that wildness was limited to sneaking underage into grotty bars and gig venues, not participating in the sex industry.
He's here to see me, Sannah realised. It's Lox. She's told on me. They're coming. Her fear overrode her embarrassment, and she moved towards Dek quickly, waving to get his attention.
Dek looked at her blankly as she approached.
Realisation dawned on his face, and he said, "Sannah. I didn't recognise you. You look... different."
He looked her up and down, his eyes suggesting he didn't entirely approve of the change.
Sannah hooked her hands in front of her, trying to hide her flesh, and said, "Why're you here? What's happened?"
Dek didn't make eye contact, looking behind her, above her, anywhere except her near-naked body.
"Lox said you were with Saint, and when I went there, his flatmate sent me here. I didn't skitting believe it, to be honest, but here you are."
His eyes were flicking now between her face and the girl on stage behind her, spending much longer on the latter.
"Dagging hell," he said, in response to God-knows what.
"Let's go somewhere quieter, OK?"
Sannah took his arm, leading him towards the private booths. At least then if the police burst in, they wouldn't be right next to the door like a pair of caged rats.
"I don't have to, like, pay you, do I?" Dek had alarm in his voice. "I mean I had to pay five digits to get in here, and it was all I had. I don't have any bus fare to get home now. I didn't think they'd let me in."
He was rambling, his voice nervous, as Sannah pulled the velvet curtain closed behind them.
"I don't think they care very much about the law here," she said. She peeled ten digits from her pile and gave it to Dek. He nodded thanks and shoved it into his pocket.
"Dagging hell," he repeated again, looking around the booth, looking at Sannah. "Cranking dagging hell."
Sannah folded her arms inelegantly to try and hide the extent of flesh she had on show, and said, "Why are you here? Is it Lox? Did she tell the school I was with Saint?"
Dek looked at her, his brow creased.
"No. Lox wouldn't do that. It's Judit. I got a message from Judit."
Judit. Sannah's ankles buckled, depositing her from her big heels. She grabbed the arm of the bucket-chair, sitting down heavily. Judit. She couldn't believe it.
"From Judit? What did it say?"
"Wait, I'll show you." Dek rummaged in his pockets and brought out his screen, pressing it quickly a few times. "Here."
Sannah took it, her eyes taking a moment to focus.
Emessage from: Dr. R. Coale, Anthrology Department Sherbourne University
To: Deklan Lowrence, Yeargroup 6, Birchwood Security School
Hi Dek, its me, Judit. Hope your zen. Sorry I missed your gig, you have probably noticed I'm gone now. Look, can you do me a big one and give my sister a message? Sannah, you'll know who she is. I just want you to tell her I'm ok. I'm in Caledia at some forest place but it's ok. Can you tell her? Please/Thanks. Sorry I missed your gig. Hope your zen. Judit.
Sannah read it again and again.
"It's off kilter, don't you think?" Dek said, running his hand through his wavy hair. "Like she's talking like she hardly dagging knows me or some skit."
"It's really formal," Sannah agreed, studying the emessage for clues. "It doesn't sound like Judit. Do you think someone else wrote it? Whose account is it from? Who's Dr. R. Coale?"
Dek shrugged, taking back the screen and putting it in his pocket.
He shook his head, and said, "Off spec to skit."
Sannah nodded in agreement and stood up, then sat down again.
Dek stood in silence, scratching the back of his head.
"What's going on at school?" Sannah was trying to order her thoughts, process this new information. Anxiety still sat heavy in her, like she was about to get caught. "Are they looking for me?"
"I dunno, kin." Dek said. "I ain't heard nothing."
"Do you think Lox will tell them where I am?" Sannah asked, fear creeping into her voice.
"No," Dek shook his head vehemently. "She's not dagging like that, I told you. She won't hiss."
"I dunno," Sannah said. "She was pretty cranked up..."
"Yeah, well, she is pretty cranked up." Dek looked angry. "She's dagging off her head. I've never seen her like this before. Look, I know we're not kin or anything, and I don't know what you're playing at, but just skitting watch it, okay? Because he does this. This is what he does."
Dek didn't look at Sannah, his eyes set on the wall behind her. He didn't need to say who he was talking about, they both know.
"I'm not... It's not..." Sannah responded weakly, her voice sounding pathetic.
"Just don't go thinking you're skitting different, okay? Because you're not. They never are. Lox thought she was different, because we've all been kin for time, because she knew it all, knew about Archi, all that skit. But she wasn't. He still cranking treated her like dag, still..."
His voice tailed off. Sannah was sure she was going to cry again.
"I'm not... I don't know what you mean." Sannah's tone was defensive. She disliked herself, hearing it. She lifted her knees onto the seat and hugged them closer to her. "I don't know Archi. Who's Archi?"
Dek's lip curled. "Archi," he repeated. "Saint's brother."
Sannah shook her head, her face blank and unhappy.
"You must know. He... He skitting killed himself. Hung himself in the toilets at school. Everyone knew, it was skitting everywhere. It was even on the news."
"Archi Breckon." The name formed, familiar, in Sannah's head. "The one who got methy'd?"
Dek nodded, his face distorted.
"It was skitting brutal. We were close kin, man. I skitting... It was the year after Saint left. Archi thought Saint was gonna get the two of 'em a place, get him outta Birch. But he didn't. Then Archi skitting mouthed a teacher or some dag, just something cranking nothing, and that was it."
Sannah's blood seemed to freeze. She couldn't believe what she was hearing.
"Don't get me wrong. Archi was a skitting mess," Dek went on. His shoulders dropped, like someone had let the air out of him, and his voice was higher than usual. "We all knew it was gonna happen, really. The methy. He skitting pushed 'em to it, all the time, that's it. He didn't know when to stop. He had no... No skitting sense, no... Just couldn't look after himself. Something was off,"—he touched his head—"here, y'know?"
Sannah stared at her feet, trying to process it all. Poor Saint, was all she could think. Poor Saint.
"Saint's the same," Dek was looking at her now. "He's not–" He shrugged. "Their skitting mum was like a junkie or some crap. Religious nut. Like that's why they have those skitting off kilter names—Saint and Archangel. It's screwed up to skit."
He hit the side of his head gently with his hand, a gesture of insanity.
"Saint told you all this?" Sannah asked, her voice shaking.
"No," Dek said. "Saint don't talk. Not to me, anyway. Not to anyone. Archi told me, before..." He shifted uncomfortably on his feet. "I'm not bad-mouthing them, Archi was my tight kin, and Saint's all that's left of him, now, but..."
He paused, composing himself.
"I ain't saying I wouldn't be all cranked-up to skit if I went through what they been through. But I'm just telling you. Saint's a skitting mess. And just 'cos he looks like he does, people—girls—let him get away with it. And you wanna be careful, kin."
He looked away, embarrassed.
"Anyway, I've said what I gotta say. I did what Judit asked. I gotta go. This place gives me the dagging creeps. Seedy to skit."
He looked at Sannah, frowning.
I was wrong about him, Sannah thought. He's a good person. I got him wrong.
"Dek," she stood, tried to bridge the distance between them. "Thank you. For the message, from Judit. For coming here. I..."
She didn't know what to say, and extended her hand to touch his arm, a friendly gesture, an attempt to express what she meant. It was all wrong. She felt like he was a punter and she was trying to charm him into giving her twenty digits. He pulled away.
"Look, Sannah." His voice low and cold. "No disrespect to you, but Lox is my friend. And Saint, all this–" his eyes looked around the booth again, his lips curling. "It's not zen. I'm gone, that's all."
He lifted his hands, keeping Sannah away, and broke through the curtain.
Sannah watched him go dumbly, then sat in the chair, staring at her feet, trying to process everything she had learned. Judit was okay. She was in Caledia—Sannah had been right. Saint, Saint's brother... That's why he helped me, Sannah thought. He lost his brother. He must have felt responsible, for leaving him. Like it was his fault.
Sannah's heart physically pained her, imagining Saint going through that. A part of her body, a non-physical force, pushed out of her, through the black double doors, down the dank empty streets, towards him. Seeking him out, touching him, connecting with him. Be careful, that voice inside her said. Be careful, again. It was far away, watching from up high. She couldn't listen.
"Hey." A girl's head appeared around the curtain. "Are you done in there? We're waiting for the booth."
Sannah nodded and exited. She scanned the room for Carter, seeing him by the DJ booth, then went over to him and, making her excuses, gave him a hundred and twenty digits—as far as he knew Dek had been a customer, and a good one, too. He took it, looking pleased, and asked if she was coming back tomorrow. She said yes.
She ran downstairs, took off the high shoes, placing them carefully near Dierdra's bag, and pulled on her trousers and trainers, putting her coat straight over her one-piece. That sexy, older woman that looked like her mirrored her movements at every angle.
She exited the club, avoiding Rade and Dierdra the best she could, and ran almost all the way to the tiny flat, her heart beating in her veins and in the air all around her.
Please let him be in, please let him be in, her mind chanted like a mantra. She pressed the buzzer. Nothing. Pressed it again.
"Alright, alright, I'm coming." Dai's voice, tilted, annoyed.
"Is Saint there?" Breathless.
"No. He's..."
She was off, running again, not waiting to hear the full reply. Please let him be there, please let him be there.
She struggled to find the warehouse, but eventually did. She couldn't climb the fence. She tried three times, kicked the rattling gate, then pulled a bin over, climbing on top. A stitch in her side, her throat sore, she dropped to the ground on the other side, her hands smarting from the impact.
Across the dark yard, hammering on the door. Nothing. He wasn't there. Her breathing slowed, her vision focused. She was suddenly aware of the cold night breeze, the stars, the still, empty yard around her.
A fox appeared from nowhere, moving like wind and water across the concrete, its eyes reflecting the light of the moon, cutting through the night like blades. It stopped, and looked at her. She looked at it. They stared. The world stopped moving. Then it was gone.
A noise. A noise inside. Was the door opening? Was he there? Sannah was lost in the darkness, all eyes, all fox. The door opened. He was there.
"Saint."
"Sannah." He sounded surprised, not moving from the door, not inviting her in.
She pushed past him. He closed the door, not saying anything. She turned to look at him. The room was dark, only the spotlight at one end. He opened his mouth as if to say something.
She threw herself into his arms. He caught her. It felt like heaven.
***
This is what it feels like to be happy, Sannah thought. It was an old emotion, something she hadn't felt for a long time, perhaps as long as she could remember. She felt at peace, like she was made of the same material as everything around her.
She was all as one with the rumpled blanket beneath her, the languid dust motes in the dim light, Saint's strong arms, encompassing her, like a bear in a burrow, his warm flesh at her back, his legs tangled with hers.
Her angsty mind, that anxious chatter, all gone. Just peace. Her heart rising and falling with the rhythm of his breath, her body tucked into his, their arms entwined, her head fitting perfectly beneath his chin like a jigsaw puzzle.
I love you, she thought, but she didn't need to say it. She could be silent, just like him. She understood.
"Sannah." He spoke into her hair.
Their skin was touching all over, the same temperature, one organ. She murmured pleasure in reply.
"Your sister," he whispered, sweet and low. "She's in Caledia, right?"
"Mmmhuh," Sannah murmured again in agreement, her eyes closed, basking in his touch.
"Mmm," he responded, barely a whisper, leaning into her hair, pulling her body closer. "I think I know how you can get her back."
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