Everfire: The Lightless Prophecy, #2

By Kel E Fox

A storm gathers over Darkhaven.

 

Gabby has made her choice. Now she must face the consequences. With her family in disarray and Darkhaven still reeling from the attack, that would be hard enough, but the Netica Project is more sinister than anyone thought.

Worse, Liam, Gabby's only real friend at Darkhaven, isn't recovering from the attack. The Taskforce are still conducting their grisly experiments, Luci has vanished, and with a host of new Eventers prompting Donovan to start a training school, Darkhaven is stretched thin.

Luci has the answers, but can Gabby find her in time to save her friend?

 

Everfire is the second book in The Lightless Prophecy, an intergalactic adventure of magic and gods, love and betrayal, and a quest to find out what holds the stars together in the dark.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Kel E Fox
• Release date: Nov 20, 2022
• ISBN: 9781922731029

Book preview

Everfire

Book 2 of the Lightless Prophecy

Kel E Fox

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Outfoxed Media

Copyright © 2022 by Kel E Fox

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, without the prior written permission from the publisher or author, except as permitted by the Australian Copyright Act 1968. Quotes may be extracted for review purposes.

This publication is a work of fiction. Names, places and events described in this book are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, locales and events (except for satirical purposes) is entirely coincidental.

Outfoxed Media

Perth, Western Australia

Contents

Content Warning & Spelling Note

Previously in The Lightless Prophecy

1.Storm of the Century

2.Urgent Bark

3.Ultimatum

4.Goodbye Fail

5.In the Woods

6.Stuff About Things

7.Loud Noises

8.Liam’s Calling

9.Skin to Skin

10.Disappearance

11.Rabbits

12.Forgotten Memories

13.Could Be a Trap

14.Tango

15.In the Long Run

16.After the Fall

17.The Biggest Bear Hug

18.Lies and Kisses

19.Discoveries

20.Talking to Dead People

21.Running Away

22.Joining the Circus

23.The Veifa

24.Decision Made

25.Confidential

26.Information

27.Burnt Milk

28.The Memory Weave Circus

29.Tryxan’s Time

30.Poison

31.Mission Central

32.Philomena’s Ginger Biscuits

33.Woman With All the Keys

34.Canine Hostage Situation

35.The Archive

36.Unpredictable Genetic Modification

37.Old Wounds

38.The Battle of Silence

39.Tony and the Incognito Hotel

40.Burns Black

Thank you!

Acknowledgements

Also By

About the Author

Content Warning & Spelling Note

If this book was a film, it’d be rated something like M15 in Australia – recommended for mature audiences 15 years or older. PG-13 in America, maybe? All that’s presumptuous about age and relative maturity anyway and doesn’t take personal experience into account, so here it is: there’s some violence, mental health themes and infrequent coarse language. Please visit my website kelefox.com for full details if you are concerned. Wishing you safe and enjoyable reading!

A note on Aussies:

This story is set in Australia (mostly) and follows Aussie spelling, punctuation and grammar conventions. We say ‘maths’, mate, as opposed to ‘math,’ bro, sprinkle vowels around like ‘u’ in ‘flavour’ and use ‘s’ for ‘z’ in words you might recognise. Ya get the idea!

Pronunciation & Glossary:

Yes, yes, I’m one of those terrible authors who mashes up old Latin and other bits of deceased language to make new, unpronounceable words. Honestly, if you prefer to skim over such words, make up your own pronunciation, or replace ‘Husaeanism’ with ‘Humbug’ in your head, that’s fine by me. Reading is meant to be for your enjoyment, and you get to decide how that works! But if you’d like to know how I pronounce some of these things, I have a guide on my website. And a list of characters, in case that helps too!

Previously in The Lightless Prophecy

Everfire is book two in this saga, and it follows closely on from book one, Darkhaven. There will be a lot that doesn’t make sense if you haven’t read book one! I strongly recommend reading Darkhaven first. If you’d like a refresher, here’s what went down:

Gabby Whitehall is sitting on top of a kids’ playground, pondering her future after high school and not thinking about the strange boy she met earlier that day, when a thunderstorm rolls in. Not her best decision, but in her defence, she didn’t know she was magically attractive to lightning. The inevitable happens, and she comes to on the pavement to find a cat trying to get her attention and two suspicious men in suits from the Taskforce telling her to get in their car.

After an exciting car chase and rescue from the suits by a rogue group called Darkhaven, Gabby finds out her mother (Luci, dead for sixteen years) is a magical geneticist who subjected Gabby to the Praegressus program as an infant as part of the Taskforce operations, an obviously dodgy organisation. Gabby becomes superhuman: enhanced healing, strength, memory and special skills. Gabby trains at Darkhaven with Stephen (stern but well-meaning guy who can talk to animals), Liam (kind and encouraging clairvoyant who enjoys drinking tea) and Donovan (a mean bitch), and she discovers a talent for heightened intuition.

Meanwhile, she’s flirting with the strange boy, who turns out to be an alien god called Keraun Thephyeu, and he tells her magic is not only real – he uses it to control Earth’s weather – but that Earth humans should have magic too. And she’s trying to keep up with her schoolwork and her friendships with Cecelia and Zenna; Zenna’s having a tough time of her own.

Gabby discovers that Luci is very much alive and is continuing her unethical experiments on children with the Taskforce. Gabby joins Darkhaven in a plot to infiltrate the Taskforce, which her father, Jon, seems to have ties to as well. They fail, and Gabby makes an enemy of Sean, one of the Taskforce higher-ups. Sean tracks her back to Darkhaven, where he shoots and kills Stephen, has Liam injected with Viciretro (a magical reversal serum that is supposed to undo the Praegressus program) and sets the Darkhaven building on fire. Luci and Jon arrive, and the Darkhaven crew realise that Jon is not only connected to the Taskforce: he set it up twenty years earlier, working under the name Jan Whitehall.

Jan shoots Sean at the same moment Keraun strikes Sean with lightning. Sean dies. Jan and Luci flee. Keraun is arrested by the Uzrun, an intergalactic authority for ‘stage fives’ (advanced humans from older star systems). Meanwhile, Zenna has ended up in hospital and has been referred to a wellness retreat for mental health rehabilitation.

Gabby gets a puppy, a German Shepherd/Alaskan Malamute called Salt, and joins Darkhaven to hunt down Luci and find out more about this elusive magic business.

Chapter 1

Storm of the Century

If I’d thought the ashes would settle after the fire that took out Darkhaven, I was wrong. It was like the summer after high school had scorched away all my old life and half of what I had expected the new one would be.

No Stephen.

No exploring magic because Catherine was still setting up the lab and all Donovan did was exercise, train and shout at people. Then more exercise.

No Keraun.

What I did have was a taskmaster. Donovan strode down the new Darkhaven hallway, bellowing, ‘Get ready to move out!’

I stood in the doorway to my room, struggling to lengthen a strap on my backpack with one hand as I juggled gloves, a torch and a first aid kit in the other, my car keys clenched between my teeth. Thunder tickled in the distance and the jarrah trees beyond my window tossed in the wind, making chaotic shapes against the late afternoon sky.

‘What, are we in the military now?’ The keys fell to the floorboards with a clatter as I spoke.

Hope, our newest recruit, already in the hallway with her pack strapped on, gave a high-pitched, grating giggle. ‘That’s hardly military.’

I huffed to myself. How would she even know? Then again, Hope was the new mini-Donovan.

Donovan marched up to me, clad in black cargo pants and a long-sleeve, skin-tight black shirt despite the heavy March heat. ‘Turn around,’ she barked, swatting my hand away from the strap. I pitched forward and nearly dropped the torch as she hoisted the backpack higher up my back and shortened the straps further. In the room behind me, Salt grizzled, half puppy-whine, half growl.

‘That’s not what I was trying to do,’ I complained as Donovan settled the bag so it rode high, pushing the weight down through my shoulders instead of pulling them backwards. The balance was better. I suppressed a grunt.

Donovan gestured to my handful of equipment. ‘Why isn’t that in your pack?’

‘It doesn’t fit.’ I wasn’t even sure why I needed all this stuff. Tonight, we were potentially picking up several new Eventers. I was probably going to drive around, chuck some poor electrified person into the back of my car before they even realised what was going on and bring them here. We didn’t know if the Taskforce would be out looking for the Eventers like they’d been looking for me nine months ago. If they were, I doubted anything in the Captain Donovan Tactical Mission Kit would be much use to me. I wasn’t handy with a cordless drill or a multi-tool, but both were in my bag. I had drawn the line at grappling hooks and a harness. Invincible or not, I didn’t want to fall off the top of a multi-storey building because I hadn’t tied a knot correctly. Not dying didn’t mean not feeling any pain.

Hope had spent the past six weeks practising with every bit of gear in her backpack, including the compass and map Donovan insisted was important kit. I’d left my map crushed at the bottom of my bag – my intuition was better than Hope’s, and these days I trusted it to send me in the right direction, more or less.

Unfortunately, intuition was the only thing I was better at than Hope – a short, muscular, bright-eyed girl with frizzy hair. She was the same age as me and almost excited that we’d been babies together in an unethical magic experiment done on children.

Cecelia and I had been playing with Salt, my German Shepherd Alaskan Malamute puppy, at a park at the end of January when I’d had a sudden urge to call Donovan. Phone pressed to my ear, I’d wandered from where Cecelia was tussling with Salt. A brown-haired young woman stood on the other side of the road, typing on her own phone.

‘What?’ Donovan barked down the phone.

I’d swallowed, staring at the girl. ‘Um. I have a feeling.’

Donovan’s tone was straight off the dunes of the Great Sandy Desert. ‘You have a feel—’

CRACK.

Out of the cloudless azurite sky, lightning – nothing to do with Keraun, since he was still stuck in an intergalactic jail somewhere – struck the girl.

I gave Donovan the street name and sprinted to her side, senses straining for sirens or the screech of Taskforce tyres. Cecelia raced up beside me, Salt wriggling in her arms as I knelt and found a steady pulse. I had no reason to believe the girl was an Eventer, but I knew she was. I told Cecelia I’d called an ambulance, and we waited until Donovan roared up in her GT-R.

Donovan glowered at me for half a second, then somehow sold Cecelia on the notion that she was the girl’s mum and would take her to hospital herself, bundling the girl into the car while I pretended to cancel the ambulance and Cecelia flapped around, impervious to Donovan’s basilisk glares.

Then they were gone, with no sign of the Taskforce, probably because the suits were still in disarray after what we now referred to simply as Sean. Sean hadn’t just been a fire, or Stephen’s murder, or hitting Liam with Viciretro (a magical reversal serum), or the defensive execution of Sean himself, or the arrest of an alien god before the entire building burnt down. How did you sum that much trauma up in a single word? It felt good to have someone to blame, a bitter reference on which we could hang our failures.

But for all that, Sean was unimportant, and our biggest failure had been allowing Luci to escape. I gritted my teeth every time I thought of her. She had to be stopped. Not that we hadn’t been busy rebuilding ourselves, and we were still in no shape for a womanhunt. Hope, despite her annoying laugh, was a useful addition to the team.

Too useful. Two months into her life as a Darkhaven recruit – which she had embraced wholeheartedly and without hesitation when given the option – she was faster, stronger, better at self-healing, better at memory recall and better at tying knots and drilling stuff. And, according to Donovan, she had a better attitude about life, although I didn’t think anyone who shared an idea with Donovan had an attitude I wanted to know about.

To top off her list of over-achievements, she had a very specific prescient skill: she could give the exact time and coordinates for an impending Event. Well, she claimed she could – we hadn’t had so much as a mild thunderstorm since her Event, and Liam had barely recovered basic health after the Viciretro, let alone his clairvoyance. But she’d given us a list, and if she was right, our ranks were about to double.

Tonight, there was a massive thunderstorm rolling into Perth. Even living under the relative rock that was new Darkhaven, still with questionable phone reception, I’d seen the headlines: Storm of the Century.

I hoisted my pack into a less uncomfortable position as we marched out into the premature storm-cloud dusk and waited while Donovan worked the gate security.

At least we had the space for more Eventers.

Darkhaven’s new home had begun as a convent in the early twentieth century, then had been a school, art studio, respite centre and finally a meditation retreat before being left to languish for a decade.

We’d spent a long, hot summer fixing it up. Gentle lights shone through the stained-glass feature in the old chapel – now a lounge room – while the two-storey, pale stone walls glowed golden in the setting sun, a stark contrast to the dark jarrah pillars and window frames. Ornate street lamps lined the path to the outbuildings, which formed a quadrangle of scraggly gardens that Liam hoped to resurrect – unless Donovan had her way and turned it all into a giant physical training zone before Liam was well enough to tackle the project. The surrounding bush was old jarrah forest with tall, straight-trunked trees and an understorey of bracken fern and coral vine.

The locking panel clicked, and the heavy steel gate slid open on silent rollers.

In anticipation of the newcomers, Donovan had upped our security measures, including the Vehicle Security Protocol. I had to drive my red Mazda to a safe house in a dodgy outer suburb of Perth, then take a car from Donovan’s fleet of identical white Corollas on one of several possible roundabout routes to the new Darkhaven base. It was a hassle, but as I’d been the one to lead Sean to the old Darkhaven, I quietly followed all of Donovan’s rules.

About security, at least. Donovan had so many rules, and with Stephen gone and Liam still fragile, she was in full enforcement mode. I skipped her pre-dawn workouts (Hope didn’t), secreted Coco Pops and Nutella into the kitchen (Hope followed the meal plan on the fridge down to the last miserable sultana) and hadn’t done any mindfulness practice in weeks. Who cared what Hope did.

After morning lectures with Donovan, in which she mostly used Hope to demonstrate how terrible I still was at controlling my sensory input or attempted to probe into possible new skills we might be developing, I’d escape for training with Salt and an evening bushwalk as the heat dissipated. It was the end of March. Cecelia was four weeks into uni and, predictably, already up to her follicles in study. She would only see people on weekends and then only if there wasn’t a test the following week, so I got put on a roster with Nancy and her younger sisters. It was disorientating watching everyone else go off and get on with their lives while I had nothing much to do after such a busy summer.

‘Gabby.’ Donovan snapped her fingers in front of my face. I hurried after her and joined Hope next to the new four-car garage, full of Corollas. I was still fuzzy on how Donovan had so much funding for this place. She pressed a mobile phone into my hands.

Now we had mission phones.

‘Pay attention. This is important. Hope has given us five Event locations, but there are only four subjects left on the cohort list. The incoming Eventers are Jonathan, twenty, Mei, seventeen, and twins Yvette and Arron, also twenty. I assume one of Hope’s predictions is false.’

Hope pouted. I would have given her a gloating glare, but I was distracted. Something wasn’t right.

‘Gabby?’

I had the definite sense that our information was wrong. I couldn’t tell how, though. I went back over Donovan’s words, trying to intuit where it had started to fall apart. Jonathan, Mei, Yvette and Arron were all joining us tonight. That in itself felt unlikely. But there was still something missing, something bigger.

‘Gabby!’

I looked up to find Donovan’s face inches from mine.

‘You’ll go to the coast since you’re most familiar with the area. It might be Jonathan or Mei, or it might be nothing. I’m going to South Perth to handle the twins and cover the bridge location. Hope will keep an eye on whatever goes down in Cockburn. What happens if the Taskforce are there?’

Hope had the answer out before I could even open my mouth. ‘Do not engage. Acquire the target and get out. If the Taskforce beat us there, remain in the vehicle and report to you directly. If you don’t answer, Dr Whittaker is here on standby.’

Donovan glared at each of us, lingering on me. ‘Do not balls this up.’ She glanced at her watch. ‘Let’s go.’

Hope gave Donovan a sharp salute and dashed to her allocated Corolla. I rolled my eyes and trudged over to mine, Salt trotting past to wait at the car door with his plumed tail wagging. I squirmed out of my too-tight pack and tossed it onto the back seat, sent Salt in after it and paused to gaze up the hill at the Darkhaven building.

My new home. Crickets sang in the jasmine-laden summer evening. It was technically autumn, but I’d learned that the indigenous Noongar people had a far more accurate seasonal calendar naming March part of Bunuru, or second summer. Despite the heat, I’d never imagined a patch in Perth could be this pretty.

After tonight, I doubted it would be so peaceful.

Chapter 2

Urgent Bark

Ihad no idea why Donovan was harrying us. I got to West Beach over an hour before anything was due to happen, pulled into a car park and let Salt out for a walk along the beach. If nothing occurred, I was to wait at least thirty minutes after Hope’s predicted time just in case. I was prepared – the first aid kit hadn’t fitted in my pack because I’d brought a book and a bag of crispy M&Ms.

The thunderstorm had built up over the dusky steel water, its angry front line advancing on the waiting city. As Salt took off down the deserted beach, I gazed out at the massed clouds, watching sheet lightning flash in the distance, my skin tingling with the thrill I always got when a thunderstorm rolled in.

The feeling of anticipation wasn’t quite the same, though – there was a hint of longing now for Keraun. This seemed like the kind of time he would show up unannounced, but I knew there was no chance of that.

I took a deep breath of the electric air and turned down the path. Salt might run on the sand, but I wasn’t getting my feet wet. I had been developing a connection with him, inspired by Stephen’s ability to communicate with animals. I couldn’t talk with them the way Stephen had been able to, but if I focused, Salt seemed to tune in roughly to what I wanted, like not decimating the entire garden. And then, like as not, he’d ignore me if he thought he had a better idea. Some days I was sure he had a complete grasp of English.

The sky darkened as I walked. Street lights bloomed to life, washing the road and footpath in shades of orange. The air was thick and heavy, and buffeting wind slashed my hair against my face. I zipped up my jacket against the pelting sand and sea spray. More lightning flickered over the ocean, tongues licking out of the bulging clouds. None of it Keraun’s.

I tried not to dwell on the fact that it had been nearly five months since I’d last heard from him. I’d spent several sleepless nights annoying Salt, wondering when the trial would be and what I was going to say when I saw him, now that I knew about this Book of Love thing. Despite the wild changes in my life last year, actual magic had still seemed like a stretch, even when Keraun tried to explain it to me. Then a communication orb – a telorb – had popped up in my bedroom, and I’d somehow seen into Keraun’s memories, visiting an ancient hall and reading a book of prophesied love.

I was almost glad about the storm of the century bearing down on us now. If I was busy, I was less inclined to lose an entire afternoon to pointless thoughts, and no doubt a handful of new Eventers would keep things busy.

Lightning blazed across the beach. Thunder split the air, snapping me out of my musing. For half a second, the burning light and monstrous sound threatened to overwhelm my senses. I stumbled to a lamp post and gripped it, focusing on the smooth metal surface under my fingertips and reducing my sensory input back to a manageable level. I’d been doing better lately, contrary to Donovan’s belief, but I hadn’t expected the storm to come in so fast. I put my guard up, blocking out the roaring wind and smashing waves.

Salt’s urgent bark cut through my mind. I startled, standing up straight. I knew all his sounds, enhanced by our connection: playful, hungry, tired, happy, desperate for a wee – he had a different woof for everything. He even had one to ask for a dried liver treat. Looking down, I saw him standing over a dark shape huddled on the sand, tail lowered.

My boot heels sank into the soft sand as I hurried down. Salt watched me approach. As soon as I saw the shape was a kid, I cursed myself for leaving the first aid kit behind. I dropped to my knees and rolled the kid over, checking for a pulse. By the blackened hair and shredded clothing, I figured he’d been struck, and since he looked low-teens, he wasn’t one of the Eventers – the guys were meant to be twenty.

The boy was still breathing, so I scooped him up, struggled to my feet with the weight and carried him off the beach, wishing I’d worn higher boots to keep the sand out of my socks. Even with enhanced strength, I could barely keep the skinny kid in my grip. Fat drops of rain began to mingle with the windswept sand. Salt whined as I stumbled.

I caught my toe on the first step up off the beach, falling to my knees and knocking the kid’s head on the railing. He didn’t make a sound. I staggered up the steps, wondering if Hope’s premonition included regular lightning strikes as well as Events. Perhaps I could just drop the kid at a hospital and run, anonymous. I wasn’t technically dead to the non-Netica Project world, but I was supposed to be inconspicuous until we sorted that out. So far, Donovan hadn’t said anything about my continued coffee dates with Cecelia, and I was hoping it could stay that way for a while.

A long while.

Salt barked a warning. The angry whine of an over-driven engine cut through the wind and waves, and I groaned. It was, to my enhanced ears, the sound of a Taskforce SUV. I turned towards the Corolla and broke into a run, but I was too slow carrying the kid. Before I reached my car, the SUV mounted the kerb behind me. I jumped out of the way.

‘Gabby!’ Dad called. I stopped and turned, eyeing the passenger seat. He was alone. ‘Get in.’

‘I have orders,’ I said, not caring if he could hear me. Let him get out of the car.

‘Ouch,’ said a voice. The kid squirmed in my arms. I knelt on the footpath to set him down, relief flowing through my body. I didn’t have to rush him to hospital. Maybe he should still go. How did this work for normal people? Flamebeard’s class was so long ago and before my improved memory kicked in.

A door slammed, and Dad’s footsteps sounded behind me. ‘We have to go, Gabby. Others are coming.’

‘Here? What for?’

‘The Taskforce will be looking for him. I was hoping I’d find you out here.’

My intuition clicked. Hope was right (ugh) and there were five events, only they weren’t all on our list. This kid had come from the Taskforce and their continued experiments on children.

Then the full realisation hit me: there would be more. Many more. Storm of the century indeed.

‘Can you let go of my arm?’ the kid asked. I loosened my grip but didn’t release him. My gut warned me not to trust this new cohort of Eventers.

He twisted around, elbowed me in the side of the head and kicked me in the stomach. The sudden force of the kick knocked me over. My head pounded for an instant, then recovered, but not before the kid slipped out of my grasp and took off down the footpath.

Dad was quicker. He clotheslined the boy and, as the kid scrambled to his feet, drove a needle into his neck. The kid went limp.

‘I thought we were protecting him,’ I muttered, climbing to my feet and helping Dad lift the kid into the back of the SUV. The Taskforce could have him.

‘It’s just a tranquilliser. Let’s go.’

My mission here was done. I’d call Donovan, tell her about the extra Eventers and find out if Hope had any more locations. ‘See you later.’

‘Gabby.’

I shot Dad a glance, my hair whipping into my eyes. ‘What?’

‘Come with me. It’s not safe out here.’

‘The Taskforce all answer to you.’

He rubbed the back of his neck, his expression worried. ‘I’d appreciate it if you tried not to make trouble.’

I narrowed my eyes. ‘What’s happened?’

His face closed like a blank-covered book. No answers. Like I was five again. But my gut told me to go with him. ‘What about my car?’

‘Leave the keys on the front tyre. I’ll have someone deliver it back to you.’ He gave me a sly glance. ‘To Darkhaven, if you like.’

He’d been angling for clues on Darkhaven’s new location all summer. I was getting along with him well enough, for now, but I agreed with Donovan that our address was something Jan didn’t need to know.

I smirked, pocketing the keys, and shot a text to Donovan. ‘Nice try.’ I bundled Salt in after the kid. ‘Sit on him, boy.’ Then I got in the front, and with a screech of tyres, we left the beach behind.

Chapter 3

Ultimatum

‘F uck me.’ Donovan sat in the kitchen of our safe house, head propped on one hand while the other flicked through the thick pile of beige folders Dad had given her detailing the current Taskforce test subjects and their estimated Event dates. There were over twenty names on the list, and eleven of them – mostly older teens and early twenties – now sat, slept, paced or cried in the adjacent living room. We had also picked up Jonathan, Mei and Arron from the original Cohort One, but not Yvette. Sebastien, the little turd Salt had found on the beach, was still out cold, but he was locked on his own in a bedroom. He was the only new Eventer from the list of subjects in a separate, black-coloured folder.

Donovan wasn’t up to that yet. It was 3am, and she’d only been back for fifteen minutes. A mug of steaming black coffee sat next to her elbow. Dad was making toast at the kitchen counter. I was slumped at the table opposite Donovan, wondering at how superhuman-ness didn’t exempt me from being tired. Hope had already crashed, having spent most of the night directing Donovan, Dad and I to all the new locations her weird Event-predicting ability belatedly revealed. Rain pounded on the roof, and the kitchen window rattled in the raging storm.

There was a spark and a yelp as Dad staggered into the back of my chair, gripping my shoulder for support. A piece of bread flopped onto the table in front of me.

‘What was that?’ I asked, then looked over at the toaster as the smell of burning wire caught my nostrils. ‘Oh. Yeah. This is, like, the dodgiest safe house.’

Dad unplugged the toaster and set it on the table. ‘Perhaps I can get it fixed tom—’

Without looking up from the files, Donovan picked up the toaster and flung it into the bin. ‘We’ll buy a new one,’ she said, turning the last page. She was now up to the black folder.

‘Are you okay?’ I asked Dad. He nodded, picked up the bread – artisan sourdough, no way he’d let that go to waste – and took it back to the kitchen bench where he started spreading avocado. He must have had an esky of food packed with him or found a rare 24-hour supermarket because the standard fare in the safe house was usually muesli and baked beans. Maybe there would be bread in the freezer if anyone had bothered to restock it. It was the sort of thing Stephen used to take care of when no one was paying attention. Donovan just made sure there was plenty of coffee.

‘Eat up,’ Dad said, sliding a plate in front of me. The sourdough had vanished under a smothering of avocado topped with sliced tomato, black pepper and a sprinkling of parmesan.

My stomach growled. ‘Is there more cheese?’

Dad tsked, then set the grater and a block of cheddar next to my plate before offering an open sandwich to Donovan. She waved the food away and closed the black file. ‘Fuck me,’ she said again.

Setting his plate down, Dad pulled up the chair between us.

‘Do you have anything else I should read?’ Donovan asked, directing her most savage glare at Dad. She had a lot to learn. Nothing worked on Dad. Except perhaps truffle oil.

Dad shook his head. ‘That’s all of it.’

‘Let’s debrief.’

‘Should we wait for Hope?’ I asked between bites. The avocado was on point.

‘She’s sleeping. Like you should be.’ Donovan took a long sip from her coffee.

‘I’m hungry,’ I mumbled through another mouthful. Screw Hope and her perfectly