Wesley ran away from the others without saying a word, under the railway bridge and towards home. It hadn’t been tiredness calling him back; it had been Kat. She must have been at the flat, must have inhabited him, and she wouldn’t do that unless it was urgent.
There was nobody outside the flats, only Jordan’s car still parked by the entrance. Wesley ran upstairs and found that the front door was already open.
‘Hello?’
Inside, Jordan had packed all of his still-damp clothes into carrier bags. He was leaning over the coffee table, and jumped at the sound, relaxing when he saw who it was. In one hand he held a pen for the note he’d been writing, in the other a small stack of bank notes.
‘What’s that for?’ said Wesley.
‘It’s everything I saved when I was working in Australia. It won’t cover the BMW, but . . .’ He put the money neatly on the table. ‘At least I won’t leave you empty-handed this time.’
‘You can’t just go,’ said Wesley. ‘You wanted to come home.’
‘I did.’ Jordan signed off the note with an illegible squiggle. ‘But maybe this is the best thing I can do for you. To make up for everything.’
For years, Wesley had wanted his brother to show him kindness. Now he was, Wesley wanted him to take it back.
There wasn’t time for this. He pushed deeper into the flat. ‘Was anybody else here?’
‘You mean Mum or Dave? No, I made sure.’
Wesley rushed through to his bedroom. This was where he had felt light-headed. It had to have been where she had stepped inside his body. What had she been trying to tell him? He looked around the room but there was no sign, no telltale clue. It was only when he turned back towards the door that he saw it.
The mural covered the entire wall beside the door, an ocean of blues and greys and blacks, whipped into a storm by hurried, impatient finger strokes. Rising from the water was a narrow frame, tapering to a point where the shadow of a person clung to it for dear life.
Wesley recognised it . . . no, the painting recognised him.
Underneath the mural, scrawled in block capitals, were two words that unlocked everything.
SAVE YOURSELF.
His knees threatened to buckle, and he caught himself to sit on the edge of the bed. All at once he saw how much had been hidden from him: Kat standing in the school toilet as he searched for her on that first day; Kat watching him sit on her bed, talking back to him, telling him truths he would never have been willing to admit; Kat screaming at him, desperate for his help.
‘What’s wrong?’ said Jordan, appearing in the doorway.
‘Do you see that?’ Wesley pointed to the mural.
Jordan moved inside the door. ‘The wall?’
Nobody would see this message but him. Nobody else would understand it.
The attack might already have happened, and he knew Kat would not have given up trying to stop it. If she had gone with Tinker, she would be powerless to prevent whatever TrumourPixel had planned for her. Wesley had told himself the attack needed to happen so that Kat could intervene. A way to save herself. If she succeeded, she would save him too. What a burden he had put on her shoulders.
It was time for him to face up to everything he had done.
Somehow he knew exactly where Kat would be. It was as if a tiny piece of her was lodged inside him, and it would guide him back to her. This is what Lukundo and Selena must have felt when they went searching for Aaron.
‘You have to drive me somewhere.’
Wesley ran for the stairs, and he heard his brother follow without question.