Terminal

by Roderick Gordon

  ‘Looks like it,’ Parry replied, his expression grim. ‘I’m not surprised that the President dropped us like a hot potato – even if he were to commit his forces, there’s no one left to govern this country now.’

  For what seemed like hours they had both hung on in the cabin of the submarine, waiting to find out if the conference would resume. But despite many attempts to speak to the White House, the blue-suited man accompanying them couldn’t get confirmation that they would be granted another audience with the President. Finally the captain of the submarine had entered the cabin, saying that he had orders to get under way, so Chester and Parry would be escorted back to shore.

  ‘All the trouble – all the killing – seems so far away,’ Chester reflected as the sun crept up over the far horizon of the sea, and the cliffs began to glow dimly with the rose-hued light of the new day. Although his mind kept returning to what he’d witnessed in London, something from the final moments of the conference was nagging at Chester. ‘Parry, the President mentioned something about a mole in the Styx ranks – is that right? Have you managed to get someone in there?’ he finally ventured, as they came to the coastal path at the top of the cliff.

  Parry muttered, ‘No, it was nothing,’ but Chester noticed that the old man averted his eyes and also increased his pace as they turned inland towards the cottage, making their way through the clumps of gorse.

  Parry didn’t speak again until they were on the last stretch. ‘Thank you for coming with me, Chester,’ he said. ‘It was a lot to ask after the tragedy with your parents. I’m sorry to get you involved all over again.’

  ‘That’s okay,’ the boy said. ‘I think it was good for me to get out. I’d sort of got myself stuck down in the dumps.’ He smiled affectionately at Parry, pleased that his presence was appreciated. ‘Not sure I really helped you much, though.’

  ‘You did, immeasurably,’ Parry replied. ‘The President must have read a thousand reports on what’s been happening in our country, until he was overwhelmed by it. But you gave our plight a human side, and I could see that it was getting through to him and beginning to tip the balance in our favour. Maybe that was why the Styx took action when they did.’

  ‘Yes, how did they know to blow the cavern roof at that very moment?’ Chester asked, as it occurred to him.

  ‘The Styx had someone on the inside – must have been easy enough, because my recommendation to carry out regular Purger checks had been ignored,’ Parry said. ‘So someone in the Prime Minister’s team tipped them off.’

  Chester nodded.

  ‘Here we are,’ Parry said as they emerged from the gorse and the cottage came into view. Chester couldn’t see any lights on inside, but that was par for the course – Old Wilkie was a stickler when it came to blacking out the windows at nighttime.

  And as Parry pushed open the front door, Old Wilkie was in his usual position in his chair in the hallway, his shotgun in his lap, and very much awake. They went into the main room where the embers were still glowing in the hearth. Stephanie had also stayed up, wrapped in a blanket to keep herself warm.

  ‘You’re back! You were gone for ages!’ she said brightly, then frowned. ‘But where did you go, anyway?’

  ‘You won’t believe what we …’ Chester began, then caught himself. ‘Is it all right if I tell her?’ he asked Parry.

  Parry nodded. ‘Go ahead – she should know. And I’ll brief Old Wilkie in the kitchen.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘I hope everyone’s packed because we haven’t got long before extraction.’ He and Old Wilkie crossed to the doorway on the other side of the hearth and went into the kitchen.

  When they were alone, Stephanie said, ‘Come on, I want to hear all about it.’ She touched Chester’s arm, then drew her hand back. ‘You’re soaked! Is it raining that hard outside?’

  ‘Oh, that was the trip back from the submarine,’ Chester replied. ‘Where we were talking to the US President and the Prime Minister … well the Prime Minister for a short time until something terrible hap—’

  ‘Are you pulling my leg?’ Stephanie was looking at him, a smile hovering on her lips. He noticed then that she’d made an effort with her hair and also put on some make-up, and how very pretty she was. ‘D’you know – I don’t mind if you are teasing me,’ she said. ‘You’re acting like your old self again. I’ve missed that. I’ve missed you.’

  Before Chester had time to answer, she had taken him by the arm and was leading him over to the sofa. She’d managed to tune in to an overseas radio station and they sat there with the music in the background as she listened to him talk about the outing with Parry. She couldn’t believe it when he told her what had happened in Westminster with the huge opening in the ground that swallowed up the buildings.

  As the radio lost the signal and the music stopped, Chester realised how croaky his voice sounded. ‘What with giving the President my life story, I don’t think I’ve ever talked for so long before!’ he laughed. ‘I could really do with a drink.’

  He began towards the kitchen door, which was open a crack. Although Parry was speaking softly, the cottage was so quiet that Chester didn’t have much difficulty hearing what he was saying. As Parry sounded so serious, Chester held back from going straight in, thinking that he should announce himself first.

  There was the low rumble of Old Wilkie’s voice, to which Parry immediately retorted, ‘No, how can he be told? Not after the calamitous way it played out in the Complex.’

  ‘What’s the matter, Chester? Why’ve you stopped there?’ Stephanie whispered from the sofa.

  But Chester didn’t answer, because something was troubling him.

  He edged a little closer to the door so that he could hear Old Wilkie’s side of the conversation too. ‘I’m glad you didn’t tell me before – it would have put me in a very awkward position with the lad.’ There was a pause before Old Wilkie continued. ‘I realise the infiltration play has been crucial, but Danforth’s too much of a loose cannon for his own good, and ours,’ he was saying.

  ‘Danforth?’ Chester mouthed, shaking his head, as the President’s words came back to him: Your mole in the Styx ranks.

  The realisation hit Chester with all the force of a bullet. He would never in a million years have guessed what Danforth had been up to. For the briefest moment, Chester didn’t know whether to break down and cry, or to scream with all the anger welling up inside him.

  The anger won out. Blinded by a red mist he threw the door open with such force that it almost came off its hinges. Behind him, Stephanie let out a yelp.

  Mouths agape at Chester’s abrupt entrance, Parry and Old Wilkie were at the table, glasses in their hands and a bottle of whisky on the table between them.

  ‘So my parents died because of Danforth’s stupid plan!’ Chester said, his voice shaking with fury. ‘Is that right, Parry?’

  For once, Parry was at a total loss. He was stuttering something as he rose to his feet. ‘Chester,’ he began. ‘I know it sounds th—’

  ‘No! No more lies!’ Chester shouted at him. ‘You knew what Danforth was up to – you knew exactly what he was doing,’ he ranted. ‘But you didn’t bother to tell me, did you? They were only my parents!’

  Parry took a step towards Chester, but the boy grabbed Old Wilkie’s shotgun from the table. Snapping the breech shut, he slipped the safety off. Chester didn’t go as far as to point it at Parry or Old Wilkie, but he was holding it as if he meant business.

  Parry’s tone was conciliatory. ‘I know how this appears, but you have to calm down, lad, so you can listen to wh—’

  ‘What? Listen to more lies about that traitor?’ Chester interrupted. ‘If Danforth’s on our side, why did he knacker the systems in the Complex so we almost ran out of air? We couldn’t even call for help because he’d screwed with the equipment.’

  Parry shook his head. ‘He’s nothing if not thorough – he wanted it to be convincing, and he also didn’t want us hanging around in the Complex in case the Styx discovered it
s location.’ Parry shook his head. ‘Look, Chester, he really didn’t think that Jeff would try anyth—’

  ‘Don’t you dare even say my father’s name! You’re not worthy of it!’ Chester yelled. ‘And you didn’t come here because you were worried about us, did you, Parry?’ he was ranting. ‘Oh, no, you came because it was convenient for your RV with the Americans. You don’t give a damn about me, or any of us.’

  ‘Chester?’ Stephanie said, as Chester reversed back into the main room. He felt vulnerable that the girl was behind him, aware that she was quite capable of disarming him if she wanted to.

  ‘No, you keep away from me too,’ he told Stephanie, stepping sideways with his back to the fireplace as he made towards the other door.

  Parry and Old Wilkie were following as Chester entered the hallway, where he paused for a moment. ‘I can’t stay in this place,’ he said. ‘I’m leaving.’

  ‘Please don’t be so hasty, Chester,’ Parry implored him.

  ‘But where will you go?’ Stephanie asked in a small, frightened voice.

  Chester was still beside himself with fury as he yanked the front door open and stormed through it.

  ‘You can’t leave like this. Let’s talk, then you can decide what you want to do,’ Parry said, the steeliness returning to his voice as he and the others joined the boy outside.

  ‘Why won’t you wait a moment … and hear what Parry wants to say?’ Stephanie begged. She was standing there with tears in her eyes, the blanket still around her shoulders.

  Chester had been striding away, but came to an abrupt halt and wheeled around. ‘No! I’m warning you – don’t any of you try to stop me!’

  ‘You don’t know what you’re doing, Chester. You’re not yourself,’ Parry said, taking several steps towards the boy, and reaching out his hand.

  ‘Stay back!’ Chester said, bringing up the shotgun.

  Old Wilkie was slowly edging around to the side.

  Parry took another step. ‘I knew nothing of it in advance, but let me explain what Danforth was trying to achieve, and in the scheme of things how important it is to us.’

  At the mention of Danforth, Chester screamed, ‘I don’t give a stuff about any of that. And I don’t even want to ever hear that stinking traitor’s name again.’

  ‘Danforth’s done the impossible and successfully infiltrated the Styx. He’s put his neck on the block – he’s been risking his own life, because he’s been working for us. What he’s doing is vital for our intel,’ Parry argued.

  ‘Yeah, well he’s not much cop at it, is he? He didn’t warn you that our Prime Minster was about to be sucked down a hole, did he?’ Chester countered.

  ‘He isn’t always able to get messages thr—’ Parry began, but was interrupted as Chester began to shout, because he’d suddenly noticed how far Old Wilkie had moved around to his side.

  ‘No, you don’t! Trying to come at me from different directions, are you?’ he accused Old Wilkie and Parry. Chester hiked the shotgun towards the sky and fired one barrel over Old Wilkie’s head. The report of the shot echoed all around.

  Old Wilkie was holding his hands up to show he was unarmed. ‘I wasn’t trying anything,’ he said.

  ‘Like I believe you. Don’t move another inch! Any of you!’ Chester threatened.

  ‘I wish you hadn’t done that,’ Parry said under his breath.

  ‘Why – because your soldier boys will come running?’ Chester said.

  ‘No, because it will carry for miles. The Armagi might pick up on it,’ Parry replied.

  ‘Oh, yeah, sure. There’s nothing around here. You’re just trying to put the frighteners on me,’ Chester sneered. ‘Well, I couldn’t care less any more. The Armagi can h—’

  One moment Old Wilkie was there, hands still raised, the next he was hurtling through the air. He came to rest halfway between Chester and Parry, face down and unmoving.

  ‘Gramps!’ Stephanie shrieked.

  Old Wilkie moaned. His clothes were ripped up his back, revealing that the flesh had been lacerated.

  ‘Jesus!’ Chester muttered.

  Where Old Wilkie had been standing was something almost transparent as the winter sun refracted through it. The height of a man, when it had touched down on the frost-covered grass it had barely made a sound.

  The Armagi had slashed at Old Wilkie with the edges of its bat-like wings and now tucked them away behind its back. They could have been made from glass the way they caught the light.

  One of Parry’s satphones began to vibrate. Chester guessed that it was the nearby SAS team waiting with the helicopter, and that they had heard the shot. But Parry certainly wasn’t going to answer it. Instead, barely moving his lips, he murmured to Chester, ‘You’ve got the only weapon here, laddie.’

  But Chester didn’t react, paralysed with shock.

  Except for its black compound eyes, it was difficult to make out the Armagi’s features on its beaked head because internal organs of varying translucency were visible inside its skull. Fluid seemed to be coursing around veins or arteries, and something with a dirty green hue throbbed at the top of its cranium. But it had turned its head to Parry as he spoke, then began towards him.

  ‘Chester … CHESTER!’ Stephanie screamed.

  Chester finally reacted. Bringing the shotgun to bear on the Armagi, he squeezed the trigger. But as he’d swung the weapon round, Chester had fired prematurely, letting off the second barrel before it was lined up on its target.

  The shot didn’t hit the Armagi in the thorax as Chester had intended, but clipped what approximated its shoulder. Myriad glittering pieces of it scattered into the air, like wind-borne ice.

  Despite the force of the blast, it remained upright, one clawed foot gripping the ground, the other poised in the air. Then the Armagi swivelled towards Chester.

  ‘Ohmigod,’ he said. ‘I’m toast.’ He threw a glance over at Stephanie. ‘Bloody run!’ he yelled. ‘I’ll keep it busy.’

  There was no question that this time the Armagi was coming for him.

  He chucked the shotgun at it, but it fended the weapon away with a deft flick of its undamaged limb. It may have been injured, but the creature was still just as much of a threat.

  Chester didn’t bother to run.

  He closed his eyes, sinking to his knees, waiting.

  In that brief moment he thought of his parents. ‘I’ll be with you soon, Mum and Dad,’ he whispered, trying to control his fear. But he couldn’t, and, at the top of his lungs, he screamed, ‘Help me!’

  There was a swishing sound.

  He opened his eyes.

  Parry was still there, his arm around Stephanie.

  The Armagi had folded to the ground, something protruding from the nape of its neck.

  Chester turned to look behind him.

  ‘Martha! I don’t bloody believe it!’

  She’d stepped out from the gorse bushes and was standing there, her red hair as bedraggled as it always had been, her voluminous clothes just as filthy.

  ‘Hello, dearie,’ she said, walking over to him and stroking his cheek.

  Chester couldn’t get his words out. ‘Where … How the … How …?’

  ‘My wonderful boy, you only had to ask for help,’ she said, looking at him adoringly, as she brushed his fringe from his forehead. ‘You knew I’d always come, didn’t you?’

  Chester looked from the crossbow in her hand to the motionless Armagi. ‘Did you kill it?’

  He did a double take as he saw what was there now.

  Instead of the creature, stretched out and face down, was a naked Styx.

  ‘No, it’s not dead … it’s only stunned,’ Martha replied. ‘There’s one place behind the head where if you can get a bolt into its spine, a single shot will do the job. Skill and luck,’ she added, obviously very pleased with herself.

  Still not believing his eyes, Chester ventured a step closer and peered down at the Styx. ‘But … but … it’s changed …’ he stuttered. ‘How did i
t do that?’

  Martha also moved over to the prostrate Styx and cast her eyes over him. ‘It’s the only way I’ll ever get a naked man to throw himself at my feet,’ she said wistfully. Then she took Chester’s arm and began to pull him away. ‘Careful – not too close.’

  ‘But he has to be dead?’ Chester asked. ‘He certainly looks it.’

  Martha shook her head. ‘Not dead, not with these things. Only way to be sure is to burn every last bit of them, toe clippings ’n’ all.’

  ‘Yes, they regenerate,’ Parry said taking a step forward.

  As if Chester had completely forgotten where he was, he now looked up at Parry, taking a moment to focus on him. ‘No, you don’t! You just stay away from me!’ Chester growled.

  ‘Lad, you have to underst—’ Parry started saying, but never finished as Stephanie shrieked again, pointing over at the trees of a nearby copse.

  A second Armagi alighted on the ground some twenty feet away. It appeared to be looking for the other creature.

  ‘Your crossbow?’ Chester said to Martha, remembering she’d just fired it.

  ‘Nothing doing,’ Martha replied. ‘Can’t reload in a hurry. Only got one good hand after the Bright caught me.’

  The Armagi was moving towards her and Chester, but she seemed perfectly calm.

  ‘Martha … what do we do?’ Chester asked frantically. He’d believed they were out of danger, but he couldn’t have been more wrong.

  ‘I might have lost a hand to the Bright, but …’ Martha interrupted herself to whistle.

  Chester thought something was wrong with his vision. From all sides, white objects converged on the Armagi. As they swooped in, they were every bit as fast as the creature. They may have been slightly smaller than the Armagi, but it didn’t stand a chance. As if caught in the middle of a tornado, the Armagi was torn to pieces, body parts flopping on the ground all around where it had been standing.

  ‘… that doesn’t mean that I didn’t catch it, and tame it,’ Martha finished.

  ‘Tame it?’ Chester asked, not really taking in what she was saying.