Slated

Chapter 21

Song;  Roslyn-Bon Iver & St. Vincent
Tbh it's such a bop <3
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It feels strange to be heading back to the hospital, the first time since I left. That day I was so scared to leave its walls and venture into the wider world: it feels eons ago, a whole other lifetime, yet is more like days.

But we might not make it in time for my 11 am appointment with Dr Lysander. In fact, we might not make it at all. Amy has the map out looking for alternatives, and Mum is cursing under her breath and flicking between radio stations for traffic reports.

"Twenty minutes it has taken us to go the last mile. We might as well turn around," Mum says.

"What if we get off at the next exit?" Amy suggests. She'd been so keen to come today, she'd somehow convinced Mum that if she did she might be able to meet Dr Lysander. She didn't want to lose her chance now.

Mum turns off the radio. "No reports." She frowns. "I don't like this. Something is going on. Amy, find my phone, and call Dad."

Amy finds it in Mum's bag, and pushes buttons on it as I watch, surprised. Mobile telephones are forbidden to anyone under the age of twenty-one. Maybe it is all right because Mum is next to her and told her to do it?

"There's no answer. Should I leave a message?"

"Yes. Tell him where we're stuck, and ask him to call."

We crawl along, up a gradual incline. A few helicopters fly overhead. We get close to the top of the hill, then stop. Sirens sound, and black vans dash past on the hard shoulder.

The phone rings; Mum answers.

"I see... All right.... Fine. Bye."

She hangs up. "There are some road checks up ahead. Nothing to worry us I should think."

The traffic starts moving again, slowly. We reach the top of the hill. On the other side of the M25 the traffic is stationary. We inch along, and stop again. There is a swarm of men dressed in black like hospital guards, stopping and searching cars on both sides. We get waved on.

"Who are they?"

"Lorders," Amy says.

I snap around to look again: they are not in grey suits, but black trousers and long black shirts, with some sort of vest on top. They are dressed just like the hospital guards: does this mean they are Lorders, too?

I feel ill, and finally ask the question I have been avoiding.

"What are Lorders?"

Mum turns, eyebrows raised. "You know, Law and Order Agents: they track gangs and terrorists. They're looking for someone."

They must really want to find them to be stopping and searching every car on a motorway.

"But are they the same as the ones in grey suits at the show, and at school?" I ask.

"Yes, they were at the show; I can't imagine why. They usually wear grey suits, but dress in black when they are in operations: counter-terrorism mostly, these days. Used to be gangs. But are there Lorders at school?" Mum says, frowning a little. "Amy, is that so?"

Amy nods. "Sometimes they come to Assemblies. They're not always there; just now and then. More so lately."

There are fields sloping up to our left, trees above. I catch a movement: a slight flash, as if the sun caught something glass or metal.

"There's someone up there," I say.

"Where?" Mum asks.

"In those woods," I say, and point. "I saw a flash."