As Connor advanced, Simon stepped back as if deferring to a person of greater status. How had Connor gained such power? Mostly, it seemed, by being a cocky, gobby ego-maniac.
He turned to Simon. ‘Cheers, mate. I can handle it from here.’ Simon flicked his head and jogged away. ‘Let’s go for a little walk.’ I checked he was talking to me.
‘Nah, I’m all right, thanks.’ I turned and began to move away.
‘Scared, are ya?’
I should have just kept walking. Unfortunately, I allowed myself to respond to this pathetic challenge.
‘What, of a stroll round the park picking flowers?’ I heard myself chuckle.
‘I thought that sort of thing’d be right up your street – or should I say back passage?’
‘Oh, God,’ I groaned, looking up to the skies for strength. ‘OK, whatever.’
We headed for the front school gates, which were always wide open and never manned. I began a fast pace and Connor had to half-skip to keep up with me, which pleased me greatly. At first he didn’t say anything and I wondered which abandoned space he’d take me to this time. Would he be alone or with rent-a-crowd? We were only just outside the school gates when he pushed me into a corner where two high wooden fences met at right-angles. The stench of creosote invaded my nostrils. I trod on a can and some plastic, colourful crisp bags that had gathered there amongst the nettles. He caught me off-guard and I saw his mates appear around the corner – in fact, a huge group of kids had followed us to watch this altercation. Before I could react he’d grabbed my shoulders, making my head clatter against a concrete post.
His face loomed right up before mine, with his eyes stretched into intense slits and his lips thin and white. Wondering if he’d start with a punch or a head-butt I considered getting in the first blow – recalling that offence was the best form of defence. However, with Connor merely staring at me, moving his head slightly from side-to-side, I could only imagine he was copying some gangster film. Many animals played with their prey before the kill, so I let him indulge in this prelude to pain. The anticipation from waiting for the blow became unbearable – or perhaps he’d back off if he saw I wasn’t scared.
But he didn’t back off – just kept on staring. I have to admit to being unnerved. Before it escalated into something nasty I decided to take control of the situation. With some velocity I shoved him away and he stumbled over, looking surprised and hurt. There was a vocal reaction from the sizeable crowd.
‘Piss off, Connor.’ I took up a defensive pose. ‘Leave me alone.’
How I keep getting myself into these scrapes remained beyond my understanding.
Connor got up and dusted himself down. His soft eyes had turned into slit, glaring ones. ‘Bloody faggot!’
‘Why won’t anyone believe me? I. Am. Not. Gay.’
‘You’re a sad little bender.’
Laughter ensued. Connor stood in front of me, a little more cautiously this time, so that I felt I had the upper-hand – for the moment, at least.
Then he smiled and stepped closer to me.
‘I bet you’d like a piece of me, eh? Do I turn you on?’ He grabbed his groin with his hand and shook it up and down a few times. ‘You want a bit of this? Or do you prefer the other side? Yeah. You love it, don’t ya?’ Now his hands were up, beckoning me towards him.
I quickly took a big stride towards him, grabbed both his hands before he could react, and kneed him hard in the balls. He sprang back, shrieking, and doubled over. I legged it as fast as I could, shoving on-lookers out of my way. The crowd offered no resistance – bunch of cowards. My head pounded in time with my feet slamming against the paving stones. My throat burned with the rasping dryness of my heavy breathing.
The school gate came into view and I ran in gratefully, merging in with a passing crowd of year eights who seemed oblivious to what had just happened the other side of the fence. Finally reaching my tutor room, I sat down in the corner, where I would just be ignored by the rest of my group as they streamed in.
During my History lesson that afternoon I became aware of a magpie flying around the playground outside. It landed on a fence nearby and cocked its head at me as I stared. The teacher didn’t seem bothered that I spent most of the lesson observing Pica outside. I somehow knew it was Guy.
Chapter Thirty-eight
As usual I was the last to leave the classroom at the end of the day. I preferred to go to my locker once the crowds had died down. This time was no different; I passed a couple of teachers who both looked pleased to have reached the end of another day without having a breakdown. So instead of going to my locker there and then, I found an empty classroom and got out my history homework. I was glad of the peace and quiet, to be honest. Then, once completed, I returned to my locker through the eerily quiet corridors.
I emptied my locker for the weekend by sweeping everything into my bag, then I slung it over my shoulder and stepped out into the daylight. This door led to the field and to the back gate, which I’d found to be much more anonymous as an entry and exit into school.
But as soon as I passed through the doorway, I was confronted by a figure in a black hoody. There stood Connor. He stared at me coldly, daring me to say something.
‘Look, Connor. Let’s come to some sort of agreement, yeah?’ I even tried a half-smile, but his expression was fixed. ‘How about we just leave each other alone? You do your thing and I do mine. We just ignore each other.’ I held up both palms towards him. ‘You’re going out with Cheryl, and that’s good. I’ll step back and –’
The attack he launched was savage and abrupt.
His fists battered my face. He kicked my shins with his hard boots. The pain made me lose my breath. I lost my sense of direction and it felt like I fell slowly, but in fact I was already on the floor when a boot slammed into my ear and forced my head to one side. It felt like the tendons ripped in my neck. Then he was stamping on me; my hips, kidneys, groin, back, thighs – all battered and crushed. A white sheen filled my vision and mind, making the pain temporarily stop.
When I opened them again, parts of me throbbed but the attack had stopped. I looked up to see a gigantic boy gawping down at me. His mouth hung open, drooling saliva. It was Connor. He hadn’t grown; I had shrunk.
‘What the freakin’ hell?’
I was Felis.
My human clothes were no longer required.
His reaction of startled paralysis gave me a chance to scamper away, but my limbs were heavy and hurt. I didn’t possess my usual springy sprightliness. I’d been hurt.
‘What the hell is going on?’ Connor still looked astonished. ‘I saw you change.’
He stepped cautiously towards me, where I still struggled, dragging my numb back legs behind me. I needed to lick them and get some life back into them, but I had to stay alert and watch this threatening creature who could now kill me with one kick.
‘I dunno what freakin’ weird crap is going on here, but I know you’re Luke. So this is your secret, is it? Some kind of magic or superpower? Well, you’ve just made it easier for me, you little prat.’ He took off his hoody and threw it over me.
In my new-found darkness, I writhed and struggled as much as I could. My claws tore against material, but I felt myself being squeezed into a ball and even though my spine and bones were flexible I hated being so confined and unable to move. Then something slammed into me. He was either clubbing me to death, or by the swaying movements before each blow, he might be bashing me against a wall – swinging me inside the hoody like a sledgehammer.
Then the beating stopped and I fell a short way to the ground in my bundle. I waited. The anticipation got the better of me. I frantically ripped my way through the material, snagging my claws painfully but eventually tearing an opening. I peeked out of the hole. A few metres away I saw Connor running in the opposite direction for a few paces then stop. He waved his arms about him as if swatting at a bee. Then he did a little jump-turn and swivelled his head around, all the while
looking up into the sky.
My peripheral vision caught something moving in the sky to my left. I saw it before Connor did and I immediately recognised the awkward flight and long tail of Pica. The magpie flapped right over Connor’s head, then went streamline, diving towards the boy. Pica folded his wings back and became an arrow, sharp beak glistening downwards. At the last second, Connor saw him and began flailing his arms around crazily, more in hope than with any skill or judgement. Pica avoided the wildly thrashing limbs and I heard the sound of his beak hitting the boy’s skull. Pica slashed his talons at Connor’s screeching face, before falling to the floor and rolling over in a tumble of feathers and wings. Connor caught sight of the motionless bird and ran towards him. I had to do something.
Ignoring the painful, lifeless parts of me, I summoned up enough energy to scamper in front of Pica before Connor reached him. I hunched and sprang up at the boy. I only reached his waist, but with claws out I managed to shred his trousers and draw blood from the soft parts of his upper leg. I let go and ran off, except my legs wouldn’t work properly and they tangled beneath me. Connor ran towards me and when he was one pace away from my unresponsive body he lifted a foot back and then followed through with an almighty kick, which connected to my side. As I blacked out, I genuinely thought I’d die.
It was when I realised I hadn’t died that the anger started. I was losing control of my feelings when instinct took over. My fury triggered something beyond the control of any one creature. This worsened as I watched Connor stride towards Pica. He bent down and lifted the magpie up to his face. Then without warning he gripped Pica’s head in one fist and snapped his neck. The bird’s head lolled down beside its body. Connor threw it down. Small and twisted, Pica’s mangled body lay motionless upon the grass – his head looking in the wrong direction, beak open to reveal a thin, pink tongue.
Before Connor could advance towards me, Pica transformed. As his life force slowly drained away, so he returned to his natural state. A human body – all life gone from him. Guy’s corpse lay there before us. Inert, naked, grotesque.
My hatred turned to rage. My feline body couldn’t cope with the intensity and I felt myself grow and change back to human form. Connor watched on fearfully. His whole world-view had just crumbled and shifted beyond his understanding. I trembled in spasms; falling over onto my face. Lying there, my body continued to shake and twitch as I felt my feet and fingers dig into the earth beneath me. Then my tongue, nose, and eyes extended from my face and stretched downwards into the ground, skin stretching and ripping as muscles, veins, and sinews tore away from my body and began penetrating the soil. I howled and shrieked as the earth itself began to quake and undulate. I slipped right in through a crack which appeared on the surface. My skin, my bones, my blood, my guts, and vital organs became part of the Earth. My atoms mixed with water drops, sap, air molecules, bacteria, and other microscopic life-forms.
The world crashed around me. The school building warped and began disintegrating – rubble cascading like waterfalls. Tree roots burst through grass and concrete, expanding rapidly in thick, coiling cables around anything in the way. Tree branches leaned down and slashed at the roofs and upper storeys, obliterating stone, bricks, and mortar and showering us with fine dust. Tree roots meshed with brambles and bindweed, writhing and tangling – covering everything in its path. Tendrils and creepers shot out with a whiplash fury, entwining and engulfing everything. Connor became trapped in a mass of ligneous foliage. It wrapped around again and again until he couldn’t move. The walls kept collapsing until the school became a bomb-site.
Then, after the first wave came the cavalry. It began with rats. So many that they covered the entire field in seconds. Then I became aware of flying insects; swarms; black flames licking into every minute space. The din of the buzz and clicking became deafening. Connor disappeared inside a whirlwind of wasps and flies. Then worms, maggots, and creeping, squirmy things flowed like rivers, rising and falling – bursting over. They went into Connor’s mouth and ears and nose, and ate into his flesh. A bewildering mass of animals followed – beasts large and small: deer, foxes, weasels, rodents, reptiles, amphibians. They fell over each other and bit and fought amongst themselves. Then came the birds.
The sky went black. Our world lay in shadow; so many birds that they blocked out the sun. Billions and billions of them swooped, dived, soared, screeched, flapped, and pecked. Millions were forced to land due to the numbers, and they got caught up in the madness on the ground where everything was immediately crushed, torn, or bitten. Mayhem. Pandemonium. The noise was unbearable. It made every single particle of my body and soul vibrate and explode.
I realised I couldn’t control the chaos I’d unleashed. My wrath seemed to be the energy directing this horror. But now I wasn’t sure if I was Luke or Felis or something new entirely.
As suddenly as it began, it stopped. The birds and insects still alive flew off in their swarms, bringing light back to the world. It was carnage. The ground still moved with animals, now scampering, wriggling, and jostling. There were so many that they crawled over each other, sometimes pushing up into hillocks that rose and quickly fell again. Eventually, the land animals disappeared too, leaving only the carcases of their crushed companions. Amongst the death and destruction Connor lay lifeless, still swathed in branches and roots, which were receding much more slowly than the fauna did.
A chill made me jolt. I was back on the surface, but unclothed and exposed.
I dragged my way slowly across to where I had last seen Guy. His body had been protected from any further damage by a canopy of thick tree boughs. As I reached out, the wooden canopy slowly shifted to give me a glimpse of the body. I climbed into the gap and shook Guy’s shoulders. His lolling head gave no reaction. I pressed the side of my face to hear for, or sense, any sign of breathing. None. I desperately tried his pulses, not really knowing what to do, but I realised it was hopeless. Guy was dead. I had failed to save him and knew it was my fault.
Chapter Thirty-nine
Without the idea even forming properly in my head, I propped his body up and wrapped my right fist around the little finger on my left hand. I yanked it one way and then another. The searing pain made me feel weak, but I couldn’t stop. With gasps and howls I kept tugging and wrenching until the joint jerked out of its socket. Then I bit it viciously and ripped my hand away so that the entire finger came away in my teeth, the taste of blood making me retch. I snatched the finger from my mouth, brandished the trophy above my head and let the blood trickle onto Guy’s head.
I was aware of the pain, but something else – something more important – made me ignore the searing agony.
I remembered about breathing into his mouth. I let the pain fill my being and then blew out that energy into Guy’s face and mouth, which I forced open with my good hand. I forgot the recoiling pain and just screamed for Guy to come back to me.
‘Wake up, godammit!’
I took another deep gulp and breathed my life force into him. It had to work, even though I had no real idea what to do next.
I felt desperate. How would I cope without Guy? How would all this be explained? This was a disaster of the freakiest scale imaginable. The school was destroyed and I had no way of knowing if anyone else had been hurt. There must have been people still in the building when it collapsed. It was only half past four.
While cradling Guy’s head, I tried to stem the blood now pumping out of the place where my finger had been. Deciding to lie Guy down, I tried to find something to hold against it. I saw my clothes scattered among sticks and leafy debris. Quickly putting on my trousers and jumper I used my white shirt as a bandage, winding it around my hand tightly and pushing it up against my hip. The wound was raw and stung mercilessly.
I returned to Guy. By now, most of the roots and branches had either slithered away like serpents, or had snapped and broken off. Guy and I remained hidden behind our canopy of broken branches. As I shook and cajoled Guy, giving
one last deep breath, I heard shouting and sirens. I looked up and saw distant figures moving around the ruined building. Fire engines and ambulances arrived.
‘Come on, Guy! You can’t leave me like this. I need you.’
I began slapping his face frantically and pulled his hair.
Luke?
‘Guy!’ I wept with joy. His lips didn’t move, but he spoke to me.
I feel so weak.
‘No, Guy. Your numen is strong.’
You’ve given me your life force, Luke. Thank you. His face remained a mask with its fixed expression. My mother was right about you.
I looked around. ‘People are coming. They’ll find you. I don’t know what to do.’
Go with them – back to your home. Don’t tell anyone about what happened. Don’t say anything about me.
His human body flickered for the very last time. Guy shrunk and transformed into Bufo. The small amphibian body lay motionless on the ground. I wanted to see it twitch. It didn’t. Then, as I covered him up with leaves, Bufo’s form vanished too. Racked with my own physical pain, I slowly stood up to make myself visible to the rescue services, waving my arms while allowing myself to sob uncontrollably.
The medics insisted I lie down on the stretcher as they examined me and saw to my still bleeding hand. Something cold and hard was forced into my mouth to help me breathe. My legs went numb and floppy.
Then I remembered Connor and garbled something, waving my right arm in the general direction of his body. The gas and air filling my lungs made everything a haze and the momentum of the stretcher being carried and swayed rocked me into a daze. How the hell would I be able to explain it?
The local newspaper had a photograph of Connor and his family mourning their loss. My guilt was insurmountable. His death was my fault. Two teachers had been hurt and taken to hospital. One had concussion but was otherwise deemed physically fit, while the other had an arm broken when a ceiling fell on her. Lucky is the word. I might have been the cause of more deaths otherwise. Others in the building had escaped before the true damage was done. My legs were severely bruised with some tissue damage, but my finger had gone, and they had stitched up the flaps of skin over the knuckle.
Pica Page 20
