Dog Blood

the perfect time for us to do this. Think you’re up to it?”
    Talk about being put on the spot. I fumble for an answer for a second, before realizing that there’s only one thing I can say.
    “Yes.”
    “Good man! That’s the spirit! As soon as they told me about you I knew you’d be a good candidate.”
    “What do you mean by that? Who told you…?”
    “We send people out looking for battles. They wait on the outskirts of the fighting, watching out for people like you who manage to demonstrate some degree of control and don’t just attack. Let’s face it, we’d be wasting our time trying to teach this stuff to Brutes, wouldn’t we?! No, we need people like you who are able to take a step back and consider the options before committing to an attack. People who use the Hate and control it rather than letting it control them.”
    He looks me straight in the eye. “Tell me, do you remember when you first stood next to Joseph and didn’t attack?”
    “I remember.”
    “And what were you thinking at the time, Danny? Were you thinking what he was saying was right, or were you just toeing the line to get the best out of a bad situation?”
    The memory of the last few days is filled with confusion and uncertainty, the distinction between “us” and “them” suddenly unclear. But now that I’m away from my cell and Sahota has put his question so simply, the answer’s clear and unequivocal. Everything has been brought back into sharp focus.
    “I was playing with him. Stringing him along. Doing what he wanted me to do just to get food and freedom…”
    “Exactly! A perfect answer! From the moment you decided not to kill him, you were in control.”
    This is too much to take in. Sahota watches me intently, and I’m uncomfortable under his constant gaze. I try to look anywhere but back at him. The sun breaks through the heavy gray cloud cover momentarily and streams in through the dirty office window. Christ, I’ve been so preoccupied with this bizarre conversation that I’d forgotten my newfound freedom-in the back of my mind I still think I’m chained to the spot. I get up and walk around the side of the desk.
    “You local?” Sahota asks.
    “Don’t know yet,” I answer. “That depends where local is. Where exactly are we?”
    “Not far from the hospital where we picked you up. A couple of miles maybe.”
    “A couple of miles in which direction? Farther away from the city center or…?”
    My words trail away to nothing as soon as I look out of the window. I know this place. Sahota’s office overlooks a narrow parking lot. Beyond that, the long, overgrown back gardens of a row of once well appointed but now derelict houses stretch away. Beyond the houses is a small, sloping, oddly shaped patch of parkland, the brightly painted swings and slides of a children’s play area looking strangely at odds with the chaos of everything else I can see. A narrow track between two of the houses connects the parking lot to the road, and a huge wrought-iron gate prevents anyone unwanted from either getting in or getting out.
    “Is this-” I start to ask.
    “Holy Sisters of the Poor, to give it its original title,” he explains, standing beside me and looking down. “Strange place, this was.”
    “Strange?”
    “Part convent, part nursing home. Ideal for us.”
    He’s not wrong. The huge, strong, brick-built complex is like a fortress. Built in the middle of what used to be a fairly affluent area, and hidden from view by houses on all sides, it’s set back off the road and surrounded by enough tall fences, gates, and walls to keep even the most determined intruder out. Most people wouldn’t even have known it was here at all. From what I remember, this used to be a convent, which became a church-run, community-funded rest home. I’m sure Lizzie’s dad, Harry, had a friend living here for a while…
    “This is Highwell, isn’t it?”
    “We’re on the border between Highwell and Steply, to be precise.”
    “But that’s…”
    “About two miles from the center of town.”
    “Yes, so we’re…”
    “Already in the city. Right on the innermost edge of their exclusion zone.”
    “Christ… How many people like us are here?”
    “Not many, just me and a couple of others at any one time. Apart from me this place is almost exclusively staffed by my team of idiot Unchanged pacifists who think they’re saving the world. As soon as people like you have learned how to control their emotions I