Awake

Chapter Twenty-Five - Into The Archives

Miriam scuttled by Jonathan's side, eyes wide.

"Walk taller," he said, out of the corner of his mouth. "I know you can. Forget about good-girl Miriam for a second. Be the Miriam who survived a volcano."

He saw her take a deep breath and straighten out her spine, shaking back her hair. She set her jaw and he grinned at the look in her eye. He wouldn't like to anger her. He had once seen a mother sheep turn around and break a sheepdog's bones when it threatened her lambs. In many ways, Miriam reminded him of that sheep.

The corridors were not empty, but the few people hurrying past on distant errands might as well not have existed for all the attention they paid. Jonathan had a goal in mind, and it involved both him and Miriam doing something they were loath to do: trying to remember.

  He was scared to attempt it, scared to reach down inside and find the bits of him that were John, still concealed and sleeping, and drag them up to the light again. He imaged that she was even more afraid of finding Marcia. But they had to. They had to be the people they were, or this would go wrong too fast for them to keep control.

"Third left," Jonathan recited, under his breath. "And then keep going."

There were fewer and fewer people around, and those who did pass them were looking at their faces. Jonathan wondered how he had ever hoped to get away with this. But, then, all he had to do was get close to the archives, close enough to see what was going on.

  The plan had been modified. A few details had been changed to suit the current climate. But, in essence, it was as bare and basic as it had ever been: blow up the lock, steal the papers, get out of there before anyone knows what's going on.

 There was a door at the end of the corridor that Jonathan thought he recognised. It was in no way different from any other door he might have passed but he knew without a doubt that this was the one. There was nobody around.

"Go," he whispered to Miriam.

She reached into the bag hung around her waist and pulled out a small glass phial of something red. She scuttled to the nearest corner and peeked around. Clearly deciding the coast was clear, she drew back her arm and threw the phial with all her strength down the long, straight corridor beyond.

 Jonathan didn't hear the glass break but he did hear the explosion that followed. Somewhere, an alarm began to ring and he heard distant voices start to shout. The choking gas, in such a pretty shade of scarlet, began to spread down the corridor.

"Now, now!"

He snatched at Miriam's sleeve and dragged her after him through the door. He slammed it behind them and they leant against it for a moment, breathing hard. The corridor on the other side looked exactly the same, but entirely empty and utterly silent. All the sound from their diversion had been completely shut out.

"Right," Jonathan forced a smile. "Onwards."