by Guy Adams
‘They’re only babies darling,’ said Gloria, adopting a shocked expression, ‘if only we’d had our time I had hoped that one day we might have...’
‘Babies? Pah! Do babies run that fast? Eat that way? They’re disgusting, my little lotus petal, and they’ll soon be floating face down in the Atlantic.’
He marched out into the daylight, his rifle firm in his grasp. Behind him, hanging in the shadows where her ethereal body held its substance, Gloria watched him go.
Chapter Twenty
GOD CAME JOGGING back from the incubator room having locked away their first captured baby.
‘I don’t know why they were all making such a fuss about this place,’ he said. ‘Weird it may be but it’s hardly life-threatening is it?’
Grace had been thinking the same thing but, unlike God who seemed positively cheery about it all, she’d felt sure that the lack of lethal attacks could only mean that something awful was bound to happen soon.
‘It all seems too quiet,’ she said, looking up at the beacon tower, her hands resting on the wooden rail that surrounded the airships ride. ‘I don’t trust it.’
Suddenly, the handrail glowed beneath her hands and she snatched them back.
‘Are you alright?’ asked God.
Grace nodded. ‘The handrail got hot.’
God touched it carefully. ‘It does seem warm,’ he admitted. ‘It looks strange too.’
It wasn’t glowing anymore but the paint appeared thicker, the colour sharper, an effect that was working its way along the whole rail. All sign of age was slowly vanishing as if the wood were renewing itself, becoming as flawless as it would have been on the day the park had first opened.
‘It’s…’ She tried to think of the right word. ‘Renewing?’
‘Waking up,’ said God, ‘returning to life.’
‘Is that good?’ Grace wondered.
God tried to think of a way he could answer without betraying his lack of omnipotence but decided he was better off just maintaining an enigmatic silence.
They continued along the street, watching the slow creep of the renovation and keeping their eyes peeled for babies.
Chapter Twenty-One
COLONEL GERRY TESTED the wind direction and shifted his rifle to a perfect position on his shoulder. Having adopted a lookout position on the raised track of the Leap Frog railroad, he was able to see over a good deal of the park and, using his long-range sight he was now squaring-up for a shot on one of the intruders: a young black woman, dressed in the most awful, tatty clothes. She looked like some form of labourer, he decided: dirty denim trousers and a jersey with strange writing on it. No doubt it was the emblem of the company she worked for. Well, ‘Nike’ (Greek perhaps?) was about to have one less member of staff on its books. He cocked the rifle, breathed out and tightened his finger on the trigger.
Chapter Twenty-Two
NEITHER GRACE NOR God knew what the gunshot was until later. The noise was so sudden and the glass lamp above Grace’s head shattered with such force that their first assumption was that it had simply exploded.
They both ran to the other side of the midway, Grace hunched over, showered with broken glass.
‘Stand still,’ God told her. They were stood within the entrance to the Hippodrome Racetrack, a large dirt track arena where once chariot races and parades would have entertained the crowds sat in the tiered seating that surrounded the track. At the centre was a lagoon, its rippling surface reflecting a sky long gone to history.
God began picking the glass out of Grace’s hair, shard by shard. ‘Don’t move,’ he told her. ‘I don’t want you to cut yourself.’
‘Oi!’ came a voice from across the way. ‘You two shouldn’t be here.’
‘Great,’ said Grace, breathing in sharply as God hooked a piece of broken glass from the neck of her sweatshirt, ‘company.’
Chapter Twenty-Three
COLONEL GERRY COULDN’T have been angrier. He prided himself on the number of shots he’d missed in his life. They could be counted on his one hand. Now, no longer.
‘Get off me, you little swine!’ he shouted, shaking his leg where one of the babies was clinging on, its tiny teeth embedded in his calf. It had been the baby’s bite that had spoiled his aim and now he couldn’t get rid of the damned thing.
He beat at it with the butt of his rifle. This didn’t seem to cause the baby any pain though it did, finally, release him and scamper away along the racetrack.
He quickly reloaded but held off taking a shot, the thing moved too fast, his ego couldn’t take another missed target.
He turned back to where he’d been aiming in the first place but the visitors were now hidden by the cover of the racetrack entrance; there was no clear shot to be had.
As if that weren’t bad enough, they also now had company, some of the damned little people from Midget City.
‘I’d be better off shooting the whole damn lot of them,’ he said, ‘clear this place up once and for all.’
It was sorely tempting, though he knew Gloria would give him hell for it. Women, too damn soft, even when they were dead.
Chapter Twenty-Four
‘YOU NEED TO get out,’ said Horlicks, looking God and Grace up and down with unashamed loathing. ‘Right now.’
He turned to the rest of his sub-team to share in the loathing, then remembered he was here with Fabrizzi and Lucy—well, they couldn’t be trusted on their own could they?—who were hardly likely to join in with some righteous anger towards strangers.
‘We can’t just yet,’ said Grace, ‘we need to feed the babies.’
‘Yes,’ said Horlicks, ‘the babies. We’ve seen how well you’ve handled that task haven’t we? I have several sub-teams combing the place as we speak. We’ll have them bagged up and back where they belong eventually.’ He put extra emphasis on this last word, determined to get across how infuriating the situation was. ‘In the meantime you two need to get out of the park. Your presence is dangerous and I think we can all agree you’ve caused quite enough trouble without adding more.’
‘Dangerous?’ Grace asked.
‘The park’s waking up,’ said Fabrizzi, sidling over to her and adopting what he liked to think was a suitably “cool” pose. Suddenly, a thought occurred to him. ‘How old are you kid?’
‘Fifteen. Why?’
He sighed. ‘You looked older. I never can tell with tall girls.’ He stopped posing and just stood up normally. ‘The park senses there are punters here, new people, you know, an audience…’ He pointed at the two of them. ‘So it comes up out of its… hey Horlicks, what’s the expression you use?’
‘Dormant state,’ Horlicks replied. ‘It comes out of its dormant state and all the rides and exhibitions come to life.’
‘But you’re already alive,’ said God, ‘aren’t you?’
Horlicks shrugged. ‘Tell you the truth we’ve kinda given up on that one; dead or alive, who knows what we are?’
‘The most handsome thing eyes will ever see,’ said Fabrizzi with a wink, ‘that’s what.’
Lucy jabbed him in the ribs. ‘If you were any more bigheaded your neck would snap.’ She looked at Grace. ‘It really is important you leave.’
‘But we can’t,’ she explained, ‘if we walk out of here without having fed the babies the Queen will kill us both anyway.’
‘Well,’ said God, pointing at Grace and nodding then pointing at himself and shaking his head. ‘But the point still stands. How dangerous is it for you if the park wakes up?’
‘Dangerous enough,’ said Horlicks, ‘but not for long because once you two are dead the park will fall back asleep again and all will be well. So, you know,’ he tried to look menacing, ‘maybe you can guess the two choices I’m working with here?’
‘Leave or we’ll kill you,’ said God, ‘yes. I’m not sure I’ll be able to allow that sort of thing but, for now, let’s just accept that you’ve offered your threat and move on shall we?’
‘Allow it?’
shouted Horlicks, ‘is this about size, buddy? Because if it is, let me tell you, I’ve taken down bigger than you in my time!’
‘Horlicks,’ snapped Lucy, ‘don’t get yourself worked up, I’m sure there’s no need.’ She looked at Grace and God, her face narrowing. ‘You wouldn’t be so stupid as to be being sizeist would you?’
‘You’re all my children,’ said God.
‘He’s saying we look like children!’ screamed Horlicks and began punching God.
‘I wasn’t! I wasn’t!’ God shouted. ‘I meant it purely in the biblical sense.’
‘He’s God,’ said Grace.
Horlicks stepped back. ‘If he is then I’m definitely happy to beat him up,’ he said. But, before he could return for a second round of treating God like a punch-bag, another shot rang out and Horlicks would never punch anything ever again.
Chapter Twenty-Five
COLONEL GERRY TOOK stock. He had killed one of those damned little people. How did that make him feel? Certainly not guilty. If need be he could tell Gloria that it had been an accident, that the fellow had stepped into the shot at the last minute. Yes. Perhaps he could also tell her that the rest of his diminutive clan wouldn’t listen to reason after that, and that he had therefore had no choice but to kill some more of them. Yes. He thought he could say all that quite easily. She might even believe it.
He raised the gun to his shoulder once more.
Chapter Twenty-Six
‘SOMEONE’S SHOOTING AT us!’ Fabrizzi wailed, dashing into the cover of the doorway so quickly he all but winded Grace as he collided with her.
‘Someone?’ said Lucy, joining him at a more controlled pace, ‘I think we know who it’s likely to be don’t we?’
‘The crazy colonel you mean?’
‘‘‘Crazy colonel”?’ God asked.
‘Used to be the lion tamer here,’ she explained, ‘fell in love with a movie actress, died, came back, bit mad.’
‘Yeah, well, that’s us up to speed,’ said God nodding at Grace, ‘you need to keep in the loop. Ask more questions.’
‘That kind of depends on what happens in the next few minutes, don’t you think?’ Grace replied as two more shots rang out and the wood of the racetrack entrance gate splintered above them.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
COLONEL GERRY HAD decided that it didn’t count as a miss if you weren’t aiming. After all, sometimes it was useful to flush out the prey wasn’t it? To force the target into the open where it could be cleanly and swiftly despatched.
Yes. That was constructive and in no way counted towards his missed shots.
He cocked the rifle and fired again.
The entrance to the racetrack was white wood surrounded by electric bulbs. It offered roughly two feet of cover. Less, the more he managed to chip away at it with his bullets. Clearly the gate was closed otherwise they would have gone inside. Once in the seating ring of the auditorium he would be unable to get a line of sight on them but that wasn’t a problem as, clearly, they couldn’t get in.
Yes. This was actually shaping up rather well.
He took his next shot.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
‘WOULD YOU LIKE to come in?’ asked a voice from the other side of the entrance gate. God looked down and gave a shocked yelp as he saw the face of the person on the other side. She was about five foot, wearing bib pants and a loose light blue blouse. Where things got really disturbing, especially for slightly conservative deities, was the head. It was a single, head-sized eyeball.
‘I know,’ the eyeball said (But how? God thought. Where’s its damned mouth?), ‘my appearance can be slightly startling. I do prefer it if people don’t scream when they see me though. Yes. All things considered I like it better that way.’
‘I’m so sorry,’ God replied, ‘unforgivable response on my part. Let’s start over. Preferably, as you so wisely suggested, on the other side of this gate.’
‘No problem,’ the eyeball said, ‘screaming happens sometimes, I’m not going to pretend it don’t.’ While she was talking, she was working on the padlock that held the entrance gate closed, two thin strips of metal working away inside the keyhole.
Suddenly, the padlock clicked open, she removed it, opened the gate and stepped inside to let everybody through. Just as Fabrizzi passed through, another bullet ricocheted behind them.
The relief on Fabrizzi’s face to be out of harm’s way immediately turned sour once he saw the face of his saviour. ‘Oh no,’ he said, ‘the freaks are out too.’
‘The freaks,’ said the eyeball, ‘just saved your life. All three foot of it.’
‘Yes!’ said Fabrizzi, ‘three foot! Thirty-six inches of perfection! As I’m sure you can see quite clearly!’
‘Please stop arguing,’ said Lucy, she looked at the eyeball. ‘Thank you very much Peeper.’
‘That’s your name?’ asked Grace. ‘Peeper?’
‘Yep,’ Peeper agreed. ‘Ain’t got no surname neither. I guess nobody was willing to admit to it.’
On this side of the entrance gate, there was a small ticket booth to the right, a set of steps leading down to the track straight ahead and, on the left, the first of four rows of bench seating. Peeper pointed at the shadows beneath the bench.
‘And this here’s my friend Demi-John.’
From out of the shadows appeared the top half of a handsome, dark-haired boy of about thirteen. There was no bottom half, he was resting on a wooden trolley with casters in each corner.
‘Pleased to meetcha!’ he said. ‘Hope you don’t mind if I don’t get up.’
This was clearly an old joke, designed to defuse his embarrassment; he didn’t laugh and nor did anyone else.
‘I guess you must be the two idiots who let the babies out?’ he asked.
‘Yeah,’ Grace admitted. ‘I’m Grace and this is God.’
‘The one and only.’ God gave a small bow.
‘God. Right. Of course you are,’ said Peeper, ‘big fan of your work.’
‘Thank you,’ God replied, ‘though I’m just the one who set the ball rolling, I really can’t take all the credit.’
‘I’m sorry about your friend,’ said Grace, looking through the gate towards the dead body of Horlicks.
‘He wasn’t exactly that,’ admitted Lucy, ‘but it’s awful to see him like…’ She turned away.
Fabrizzi put his arm around her. ‘At least it wasn’t us,’ he said in what he no doubt thought of as a reassuring tone. She gave him a disparaging look and pulled away.
Fabrizzi shrugged and looked at Grace. ‘Just trying to help.’
‘We need to keep moving,’ said Demi-John. ‘If the Colonel’s decided to shoot us all he’ll be on his way soon enough.’
‘Why would he want to shoot you in the first place?’ asked Grace. ‘Ok, I guess I can understand why he thinks it’s a good idea to kill me and God but you guys live here.’
‘The Colonel’s got a few problems,’ said Peeper. ‘He always was a bit flaky but since we came back… I don’t know, it’s been weird for all of us, trying to figure out who we are. It’s not like the rest of you out there, the world just changed around you, but we’re a part of that. I remember my time here but I also remember the life after, when the park burned down and we all went our separate ways. I ended up working a travelling show down south. So how come I’m back here, now, a kid again…?’
‘Don’t question it!’ said Fabrizzi. ‘We’ve been given a second chance! Young and beautiful again!’ He looked at Peeper. ‘Well, some of us at least.’
‘Seriously guys,’ said Demi-John, ‘we can talk on the way but we need to get out of here.’
‘We need to gather up the babies somehow,’ said God. ‘Once we’ve done that Grace and I can get out of here.’
‘Perhaps we should just leave,’ said Grace. ‘It’s not really fair to endanger everyone else by hanging around.’
God shrugged, picking up the sack of food. ‘Your call, but we both know what
’s going to happen if we step out of here having not done what we’ve promised.’
‘What’s in the sack?’ asked Demi-John.
‘Food,’ said God. ‘Apples. Flying ones.’
‘Of course they are,’ said Fabrizzi tapping at his head in a manner that made it quite clear what he thought of God’s state of mind.
‘And the babies like them?’ asked Demi-John.
‘Love them,’ said Grace. ‘We caught one because it was desperate to eat it.’
‘Then I’ve got an idea that might help, come on!’
Chapter Twenty-Nine
COLONEL GERRY WAS making his way back down the track of the Leap Frog railway, trying his best not to shout and kick at things. His temper had always been a trifle short. The slightest thing could provoke him, it was what had finally necessitated his withdrawal from the army.
When there had been battles to fight, nobody complained about a soldier with a short fuse; in peace time it became more of a hindrance. That night in India, when he had finally snapped and beaten the slovenly oaf in the laundry room. The damned man never could get a decent crease into his dress shirts.
‘You used to pay me to keep the savages in line,’ he’d told his commanding officer, ‘now you’re trying to give me the boot for it.’
‘We’re not fighting the domestic staff,’ the man had said, looking down that fat, blotchy nose of his. ‘In fact, now, we’re not supposed to be fighting anyone. I’d advise you to take a pension and leave while your reputation is mostly intact.’
And that’s what he’d done, resenting every damned moment of it. But the money soon ran out. It was so expensive to live at a decent level these days. The cost of servants, the astronomical rates of travel. He’d earned a reputation handling big game during his time in India so turning it to his financial advantage hadn’t been hard, leading safaris, teaching the lily-livered dregs of the colonies to hunt. They paid well and, for a couple of years, he was happier than he ever had been in the army. A loaded rifle and decent savings, what could be better?
