The Birmingham Affair
Exhaust fumes wrinkled Eliza’s nose as she stepped into the warmth. Central Birmingham’s concrete jungle surrounded her, reflecting the sun’s heat into her face. Her panting dog’s claws rattled on the pavement beside her – Ava was an Alaskan Malamute, and her shaggy white fur was designed for cooler climes.
When can we go home?
The dog’s high-pitched words reverberated around her mind. It had always been that way. As long as she could remember, Eliza had heard the flurrying thoughts of animals flowing through her mind, from the squirrels at the park to the lions at the zoo. It wasn’t the sort of secret to chat about at parties.
She adjusted her bulky sunglasses on her sweaty nose. The cheap plastic started to slide immediately. “I dunno,” she muttered out of the corner of her mouth. “Soon.”
She headed down the busy street with her grip tight on Ava’s rough, corded lead. She adjusted the sunglasses again. Pain gnawed at the fresh scar they hid; an itchy reminder of what she’d left behind.
Eliza…
Ava stopped dead, and Eliza felt the growl emanating up the lead. She glanced down to see Ava’s hackles raised. Her gaze darted into the maze of traffic. The wide street was packed with vehicles, all crawling into the city centre.
“What?” Then she saw it. A black Mercedes. She stopped dead as her arm hairs lurched up like magnetised pins.
Reynolds drove a black Mercedes.
It’s the Man-Human. Ava yanked on her lead, her growl revving like a motorbike. He hurt Damien.
Damien was Eliza’s brother. He’d been driving when a van came careering into them. She tried not to think about it. The other driver had Reynolds’ business card. But that was miles away in York. He couldn’t have followed her here – she’d dumped her phone and ID in a dustbin days ago.
She dragged in a breath of exhaust-filled air. “Lots of people drive cars like him.” Her voice shook. “It’s okay, Ava. Let’s get going.” She tugged at the lead. “We’ll see if Damien’s okay, yeah?”
The dog relaxed and whipped around to eye her with her beady gaze. We’re going home?
Eliza nodded. She’d hoped Reynolds would disappear if she left and the police brought the heat about the car accident. What crazy person kept harassing someone in the middle of a criminal investigation, after all? But she’d always meant to go home. She needed to know about Damien. When she’d seen him last, he was out cold in a hospital bed.
“Yeah, c’mon.” She tugged on Ava’s lead, and they made a shortcut to the station.
Here there were fewer vehicles and a fresh breeze to clear her sinuses. Ava trooped beside her, her thoughts buzzing of seeing Damien, who Eliza knew was a close second to her in Ava’s heart. Fortunately, Ava hadn’t been there that day, so she hadn’t seen what he’d looked like when the other car was through with them both. At least it saved Eliza having to see the sight night after night in both of their minds.
The station, a plastic modern monstrosity crouching over the rails, loomed overhead. It peeped in and out of the tall red brick buildings as they walked onwards.
She heard the smooth rumble of an engine from behind, and she glanced back out of habit. A black car was close. The bonnet glistened under the early summer sun. Her gaze drifted to the driver.
Her heart stuttered.
It was a man in a suit. Sunglasses perched on his nose below slicked-back brown hair. His lips were twisted into some sort of smirk.
“C’mon!” Both she and Ava sprinted down the street. Reynolds was here. He’d followed her to the Midlands, and if he could find her here? Would he ever stop?
Being caught wasn’t an option. She knew what happened to his lab rats.
Eliza’s breath burned in her lungs and her sunglasses slipped on her sweaty nose. They darted down a narrow, stinking alleyway and burst out into a gaggle of shocked shoppers. The air filled with disapproving gasps.
Where now?
Ava’s voice shot through her head. Eliza shoved past the shopping-bag-laden gaggle and headed down the street. “I dunno,” she muttered out the corner of her mouth. Her scar throbbed with heat and she shoved her sunglasses back up her nose. “Away.”
Not home?
“No.” She hurried, her head down, praying that Reynolds wouldn’t see her amongst the screen of shoppers. The rumble of engines reverberated around her head. “Let’s get away from here. I need to think.”
Okay.
Except they were lost. There was a shopping centre near here packed with people – maybe she could hide there? She turned on her heel and jogged back. Ava trotted at her side. If they blended in for a moment, maybe then she could come up with a real plan. And the more witnesses, the better.
She wound her way through the streets, through throngs of shoppers. Ava kept up a running commentary the whole way while Eliza dodged their way past buskers and leafleteers: I can’t see him…no Man-Human here…where are we going?
The strange-shaped shadow of the station was dead ahead. Eliza breathed a sigh of relief, blood pumping in her ears, and she ran for it.
Eliza!
A sleek shape cut her off in a screech of tyres. She stuttered to a halt, barely missing the car bonnet. The window buzzed down.
“Miss Whittle.”
A smooth voice sounded from the car. She dragged her gaze over to look at the front seat. There was a click; the barrel of a pistol poked out beside Reynolds’ classically handsome face. His lips spread into the sickliest smile. She tasted bile on her tongue.
“Get in.”
Her heart thrummed in her ears, the lead sweaty in her hands, vibrating with Ava’s growls. And then she turned and ran.
There was a bang like a firecracker, but she was still running, and there were no yelps of pain from Ava, so the two of them fled.
She shoved her way through the crowds, streaking down shop-lined side streets and dodging crawling cars. Tall stone buildings loomed over on either side, closing in on her like a casket – she was trapped. Every jarring footstep, pain shooting through the scar on her face, took her away from the only escape route. The train station.
Brakes screeched, and she narrowly avoided a dark-painted car. Reynolds? The thought sent her sprinting across the central roundabout to indignant shouts. Ava’s claws clattered on the pavement, her voice urging her on: the Man-Human is behind us!
The buildings started to shift around her. She crashed across some stale-smelling canals. Glass-plate buildings shone overhead, reflecting sunlight to blind her. Her pulse beat in her ears, sweat sliding her glasses down her nose, and she skidded to a halt beside a building site. There were fewer people here. She had to stick out like a sore thumb.
Ava circled at her feet, panting too. Her doleful eyes looked up at Eliza. What now?
Good question. Eliza dragged air into her burning lungs, trying to think. She was lost. Reynolds knew she was here. She and Ava certainly didn’t blend in.
Her legs jellified and she landed on the gum-ridden pavement. She had to keep moving. What if Reynolds caught her and she ended up sliced open for microscope slides? But she was stuck to the pavement in a puddle of hopelessness.
Where was there to go? All roads led to Reynolds.
Ava nuzzled into her shoulder. What’re we gonna do? Her nose was wet against her cheek.
Eliza ran her fingers through her fur. Terror pinned her to the floor. Was there a point in still running? Could she avoid the fate that stared at her like the barrel of a gun?
Eliza.
Ava’s doleful brown eyes stared, far more intelligent than they had any right to be. If she sat here, Ava was as doomed as she was. She could end up like Damien, and she couldn’t let that happen.
She scrabbled to her feet and shoved the sunglasses up her nose. In the distance she could see the gleaming silver sphere of the shopping centre. The Bull Ring. People would be bunched around it in packs, and she could sneak past. She could use them as a screen to get Ava onto a train and away from him.
She glanced down at her friend. “I’ve got a plan.” Ava’s tongue lolled out delightedly. Eliza tightened her grip on the damp, sweaty lead, and they took off running.
The traffic snarled up the closer she got to the city centre. She scanned the rainbow of vehicles, but saw no Mercedes as she rounded the corner. Exhaust fumes caught in her throat and made her cough.
They were close, the shopping centre their beacon, the train station tucked beyond it. Hope stirred in her chest.
Tyres squealed behind her. Her veins froze.
Eliza!
Ava’s barks cut through her terror. They could make it. They darted onwards, hurrying up steps to the shopping centre. A car door banged.
Her legs burned, but the station was ahead, beckoning. Each footstep jarred as she crossed the concrete. She heard footsteps behind, hard and heavy. Harsh shouts echoed up the stairs.
Finally, she ducked under the station’s gleaming entry arches. The departure board showed a train to Manchester. Three minutes to go. She barged through to the ticket machines, stamping on toes and kicking at suitcases, and she swiped her card. The machine considered her for a moment before spitting a square of orange card into her hand. She had her escape.
They raced for the barriers and pelted down the concourse to the platform. A glance behind her told her a pair of suited men had just barrelled into the station. The hairs on the back of her neck stood up, but they were still looking around. They hadn’t seen her yet. She turned her back and made for her platform. The train was ready to leave.
She’d made it.
