“Can’t think of any reason why I should.” He took a sip of his drink. It was the smell I’d smelled the only other time I’d been inside.
I watched as he put the cup down on the table and wiped his moustache with the back of his hand.
“Well, because it would be helpful to the rest of us if you pitched in and gave a hand with stuff.”
“I guess it would.”
“So …” I said, hoping he would agree to help out.
He knocked back the rest of whatever he was drinking, I couldn’t tell if it was coffee or something else, but it smelled vile.
He slammed the cup back down on the table
“So, it’s been nice talking.”
“Is that it?” Libby asked. I was pleased to see she was on my side.
“Is that what?”
“I think Libby is asking if that is your final answer.”
“My final answer to what? Nobody asked me a goddamn question yet.”
“I asked if you would be joining in with the rest of the group.”
“And I answered.”
“Would you mind if I ask why?”
“No.”
“What?”
You asked if I’d mind. No, I wouldn’t.”
“So, why?”
“I’m not going to say.”
“But you said—”
Jim interrupted. “I said I wouldn’t mind you asking. I didn’t say I would answer.”
I held my breath and counted to ten. Then I thought I’d try to adopt a different approach.
“So, I suppose you’ll be moving on soon then.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. I haven’t decided yet.”
“Can you think of one good reason why we shouldn’t just leave you behind?”
“Nope.”
“Pardon.” I’d expected him to crack then. He evidently wanted to stay with the group but for some reason, he wanted to be apart from the rest of us.
“So, you think we should?”
“No,” he dragged the word out impatiently.
“But you said—”
“Oh, for god’s sake. You asked if I knew of one good reason why you shouldn’t leave us behind.”
“Yes, and you said no.”
“That’s because I know of three good reasons why you shouldn’t leave us behind.”
I sat back against the back of the bench seat and cracked the back of my head on the wall behind me.
“Come on then. Why don’t you give me the three reasons why we shouldn’t leave you behind?”
Jim stood sharply and walked up the length of the motorhome then rapped on the door I assumed that Lola and Brigitte were behind. “Ladies. Could you two change and come out here please?”
There was silence for a few moments, then a childlike female voice said. “We’ll be out in a moment.”
Jim headed back over and sat down again. “So, my friend, reason number one.” He started to lift his T-shirt until it was across his chest, then turned to show a red mark on his side, curved, and with clear teeth marks.
“You were bitten?” I asked, unable to take my eyes off the mark on his side.
Libby had to stand up and lean around to see and she had clamped her hand on her mouth when she did. Then she sat down and edged as far away from Jim as she could.
“I was bit, yes. Day one.”
“What happened?”
“Doesn’t really matter. All that matters is, I didn’t get sick, die, and turn into one of those crazies out there.”
“It might just be, what’s the word for it, not fermenting—” I couldn’t think of the right phrase.
“Incubating?”
I snapped my fingers.
“That’s the one.”
“So maybe you get why I don’t want to come out.”
I looked at him. “You’re keeping yourself in quarantine?”
He snapped his fingers and pointed at me.
“You’re catching on.”
I was too. OK, he still didn’t seem like the friendliest person in the world, but I could understand why a little now. I think I’d be pissed off if I’d been bitten.
“You missed something though.”
I thought for a moment then shook my head. I had no clue what he was talking about.
“Well. Consider this. The whole world has gone to hell because of some infection the goddamn Russians allegedly decided to spread across the globe.”
I raised a hand. “We don’t know that for sure.”
“We don’t. It’s one theory I suppose.”
“Not for sure.”
“Well, forgive me if I don’t take it as read. A few people seem to have gotten away with not catching whatever it is. You. Her,” he thumbed at Libby who was as far away as she could get and still with her hand on her mouth, “all those other people out there. That was always gonna happen as far as I can tell. I, on the other hand, got bit and didn’t die. I had a fever for a day but that soon passed. Since then I’ve felt fine.”
“Didn’t we already establish that?”
“We sure did but think about it.”
I thought for a while, but nothing really emerged. It was more of a pretence than anything else. I was never too good at thinking.
I shrugged to show him I was done and had nothing.
“Well if I didn’t die, I must be …”
“Alive?”
“Hell, yeah, but what else? Come on. You snooty Brits are always so full of it. Think.”
Then it hit me.
“You’re immune. You have antibodies.”
“Hallelujah. Yeah, I must have antibodies, or magic, right,” he winked at me and for a moment I got this overwhelming feeling that he wasn’t kidding about the magic, “and what would happen if the government got to know about that?”
“Two things, Jim.”
“What?”
“There is no government. If there is, they’re holed up in their little bunkers waiting for the shit to stop hitting the fan. Then they’ll come out and there’ll be nothing left to govern.”
“That remains to be seen. I know in the states the CDC would kill to get hold of someone like me. And I mean kill. I can’t believe your lot wouldn’t be any different. What was the second part?”
“We won’t tell anyone.”
Jim looked over at Libby who was still trying to suffocate herself with her hand, her eyes wide and frightened above them. Then he looked back at me.
“OK. I won’t tell anyone.” I knew I shouldn’t have let Libby come in.
“I believe you.” Then he leaned forward. I felt myself subconsciously lean back as far as I could away from him.
He put his hand by the side of his mouth to shield what he was whispering. “I’m not so sure about her.” He swiveled his eyeballs in Libby’s direction.
“I’ll take care of it.”
“Make sure you do, Ivy.”
“I’m Frank.”
“I know.”
“So, who’s Ivy?”
“Huh?”
“You called me Ivy? Is that …”
“It’s what I call guys like you.”
I looked down at myself.
“Like me? What do you mean?”
“Prep boys. Blue-bloods. High society. Ivy leaguers.”
“Hence the Ivy?”
“Damn right.”
“I’m none of those things. Just a well-spoken country boy.”
“Yeah, right. You reek of elitism.”
I sniffed myself. I reeked of something, but I would never have said it was elitism.
I couldn’t really think of much else to add to that discussion that I wanted to say in front of Libby. Jim had trusted me with his secret, so I would explain to him but not right then.
“So, what were the other two reasons.”
“Oh yeah, right.” Jim slid out from the bench and went back to the door he’d knocked on earlier. “You girls ready?”
“Sure am, Jim.” The childlike voice came fr
om behind the door again. Not an American I noticed.
“OK, I’m gonna open the door. Take it easy out here, OK?”
Two voices said OK this time.
I had no clue what to expect as the door swung open, but I wasn’t expecting two young women, plainly dressed in jeans and a T-shirt, to step out.
Neither did I expect Jim to offer them both what looked like a climber’s harness each which the girls put on. They were huge on them, hanging loosely on their slim bodies.
It really started getting weird when Jim fed a length of rope through the harnesses and tied it to a large handle that was fixed to the wall of the motorhome.
“Look, Jim. To be honest, what you get up to in here with the two girls is none of my business. Whatever it is, I really don’t need a demonstration.”
Jim grinned. It was the first time I’d seen that, and it didn’t repulse me, so I assumed Libby was OK with it, proving again that it really is just me who has a revolting smile.
“Oh, but you do. You really do.”
I tried to stand up to object more forcibly but I just succeeded in smacking my thighs against the edge of the table and flopping back down on the bench seat.
“Stay where you are, Frank, and don’t move a muscle. You too Libby, OK?”
“Frank,” Libby said. She was trembling. She was actually trembling. I’ve never seen anyone look as scared as she was right then.
“It’s OK, Libby. I don’t think Jim is going to hurt you.”
“I’m not Libby, really. You’ll be fine. Just keep your hands to yourselves, OK?”
I put my hands under my aching legs and glanced over at Libby who did the same thing, only under her legs, not mine. That would have been weird.
I had no idea why. Lola and Brigitte looked like two perfectly normal young women. What were they going to do?
“Right then girls. On a count of three. One, two, th—”
I didn’t hear the rest as there was a rush of air that made me pull my hands from under me and cover my face and a very confusing sound of ripping and tearing.
“OK. You can look now.”
I wasn’t sure quite what to expect so I opened my fingers over my eyes slowly. Then I whipped them away quickly, so I could use them to push me down the bench seat as far as I could go.
“What the fuck, Jim. Why didn’t you fucking warn me? I could have had a coronary.” I was more than slightly miffed at him.
I looked over at Libby. She was just staring open-mouthed. When I looked back, I could feel hot breath against my face, so I moved really slowly.
“What do you think to my babies?” Jim asked with a gleeful smile on his face.
The wolf that was staring at me, unblinking, with incredible amber eyes no more than a foot from my face curled its lip and growled very quietly.
My heart was beating a rapid tattoo and I could feel myself holding my breath just in case it riled up the wolf any more than I seemed to be doing already. I could see its shining, black nostrils gently stretching, taking in my scent and probably Mungo’s too. I was glad I’d left him with Daisy before I came over to talk to Jim.
The beast growled again, revealing canine teeth the size of my little finger, and looking razor-sharp.
“What … I mean how … I mean. Fuck me, Jim.” I could feel myself trembling and had an urgent need to pee although I’m convinced now that was just my brain pulling all the energy from my muscles to stop it exploding.
“OK, girls, back into your room now and keep the noise down.”
Jim untied the rope from the handle on the wall and gently tugged on it. The wolf facing me, I had no idea if it was Brigitte or Lola, slowly backed away through the door. Once the other one was in, Jim picked up the shredded clothes from the floor and tossed them through the doorway and closed the door behind them.
“So,” Jim held his hands out like some kind of a showman at the end of an act. “What do you think? Is that reason enough for us to stay with you guys? Take it from me the couple times I let the girls loose on those things they absolutely tore them to shreds.
I gulped. I could well imagine. They were certainly fearsome creatures and you might be wondering why I hadn’t shat my pants and run away screaming. I mean—werewolves, shapeshifters, whatever they are. It’s the stuff of nightmares and book covers with musclebound blokes on them, but I happen to be very interested in that sort of thing.
When weird things happen, as they tend to do out in the country, especially where there is little human interruption, like on the estate, I think anyone would be mad to dismiss the myths and legends that have grown up around the country.
OK, some will doubtless be the product of a mind that has been bewitched by the bottom of several beer glasses but somewhere, I’m convinced, there is a kernel of truth in most stories.
Now, just as all that lovely technology to announce it to the world as being true isn’t available, I actually see proof not more than a dozen inches from my face.
Typical.
Jim sat back down.
“I came here to study some of the myths and legends around Stonehenge. I was a professor at NYU. Ancient History and Anthropology. I got an invitation to come over and study some ancient documents over here. My sideline is dealing with ancient curses and hauntings. The dark—and what goes bump in it. I have … abilities, shall we say?” He seemed pleased with that line. I assumed it was one he had used before
“Like in Ghostbusters?” I said innocently.
Jim glared at me, reddening in the face. He seemed to get bigger, pulling himself up from his slouch. Through gritted teeth and in a harsh whisper he said, “Never mention those dumbass movies in my presence again. Set me back decades, they did.” His face had turned an alarming shade of puce.
I held up my hands in submission. “OK, OK, I get the message.” I sat, avoiding making eye contact for a few moments, then I thought of a way to change the subject.
“So, you found those two while you were here?”
“No. They’re my research assistants.”
“But they’re English, aren’t they?”
“Yup. They were over on a research scholarship. Sisters you know. Asked for me because of my past work and to see if there was anything I could do for them, you know, to stop them changing.”
“Was there?”
“They just changed.” Jim fixed me with a puzzled look.
“So that was a no, then?” I said.
“Uh-huh. The best I could do was help them gain some control over when they changed. Now they can change at will but when it’s a full moon they still change, even if they don’t want to. There was nothing I could do to help them with that.”
“Nothing at all?”
“I’m a professor, Frank, not a miracle worker,” he said with a shrug.
“Fair enough.”
“So. What do you think?”
“Very … errm … very impressive.”
Jim huffed and rolled his eyes. “I mean, what do you think to us hanging around with you guys?”
“Errm, well, yes, I suppose you can. How long will you give it before you come out of quarantine?”
“I figure another couple of days. And I know this might sound crazy” I looked at him with one eyebrow raised, as if producing a couple werewolves and talking, albeit briefly, about magic wasn’t in the slightest weird, “but I have somewhere to be in a week’s time.”
“OK.” I was more than a little shell-shocked in truth, but I couldn’t see any reason why not. Even if they only stayed for the week, at least they were with us, and from what Jim had said, we might be grateful for those two delicate young ladies’ alter-egos one day.
Now I knew why he had been so secretive, it seemed like he’d probably been doing us all a favour anyway by staying out of sight.
“Don’t mention the girls’ story to anyone though. not just yet. I think people have had enough of a shock to the system for a while.”
“I know I have. I’ll keep it qui
et. What about you, Libby?”
“They were wolves.” She said it very slowly whilst shaking her head.
“Yes, Libby, they were wolves. Can you keep that to yourself for a while do you think?” I tried to put on my most patient voice, but it sounded to my ear more as if I was talking to a small child.
She shook her head rapidly, keeping her eyes fixed on the door which Lola and Brigitte had disappeared behind.
“Who would believe me anyway?” she asked which, on reflection, I thought was a perfectly reasonable question.
“Do you people need anything?” I asked—I just managed to stop myself going all mid-Atlantic and calling them ‘guys’.
“No. We’re fine for now. The girls don’t eat much, and we have water so we’re OK. If you want to store some of the stuff you guys picked up from the store, then we can take some of it if you like. And if Libby wants to ride with us, she can.”
“Libby?” I asked. She was still staring at the door. I clicked my fingers and eventually had to resort to waving my hand in front of her face to get her attention. “Do you want to ride with Jim and the girls?”
Libby shook her head rapidly and started to slide out from the seat as quickly as she could.
“Remember to keep this to yourself, Libby, OK?”
“Yeah, no problem,” she said over her shoulder as she almost burst through the door out onto the field we were in.
***
Hell. All I wanted to do was to talk about what I had witnessed in Jim’s RV as he referred to it.
While I was stuck in the Range Rover with Libby, David, Mandeep, and Gianpreet I couldn’t. I desperately wanted to talk to someone but the only person I felt I could trust not to go completely batshit crazy was Daisy and she was driving her tractor, doing a bang-up job of clearing the few Groaners we happened across on the road.
I didn’t even get a chance to take her to one side when we stopped as everyone was busy making and eating food, now we actually had some.
It wasn’t until the evening fell that I could get her to one side to talk without other people being around or at least in earshot. She had found us a farm that was off the beaten track just short of a place called Shipton-under-Wychwood. The farm was walled off virtually all round and once the gate was blocked off, this time by the motorhome, I jumped out to go check out the grounds and make sure it wasn’t harbouring a herd of Groaners.
The One Percent (Episode 3): The One Percent Page 8
