It's Only the End of the World

by J. A. Henderson

  “There are civilian clothes inside.” Charlie jumped out and began to change the van’s number plates. “Hope we got your size right.”

  “That won’t do much good.” Scotty stared at the Day-Glo van in horror. “You can probably see this lemon on wheels from outer space. Cops will spot it easily.”

  “I’ve got that covered.” The boy finished and got back behind the wheel. “Hop in.”

  While Scotty and the Spider changed attire, he drove round the corner and into an automatic car wash.

  “What are you doing?” the con man objected. “Making sure we look our best when we’re recaptured?”

  “The paint is water soluble,” Charlie explained as the van emerged from the car wash, gleaming white and with the logo gone. “Thank God it didn’t rain while we were waiting.”

  “It won’t make any difference.” Primo pointed to a small box on the wall of the garage. “There’s CCTV everywhere these days.”

  “Frankie has shut down every camera within a three-mile radius.”

  “Frankie again, eh?” The Spider picked at his teeth thoughtfully. “Your collaborator is quite the criminal mastermind.”

  “Hey. This was my plan.” Charlie changed gears and sped away.

  Before long he joined the motorway, slipping into a lane filled with traffic, heading out of Edinburgh.

  “Now that we have a chance to chat, I’m dying to know why you broke me out.” The White Spider was lounging in one of the vehicle’s chairs. “Though I’d love to believe you are merely good Samaritans, I presume you need my services in some way.”

  “Fleeing from the police is not the ideal time for a heart to heart,” Charlie said brusquely. “Let me concentrate on driving.”

  “Chaz ain’t the most approachable type,” Daffodil smirked.

  “Very well.” The Spider stared at the surveillance equipment filling the van. “But I’m rather impatient to meet this Frankie. What a clever fellow he must be, using children in such a novel way. It seems there’s nothing he cannot do!”

  “You haven’t heard him try to tell a joke.”

  Charlie turned off the motorway and onto a dark country lane, slowing dramatically as he negotiated the twisting bends of the narrow road.

  “Here’s some cash and credit cards.” Daffodil handed the Spider a wallet. “And a fake ID, in case we get stopped.”

  “You mentioned Manticorps hunting you.” The Spider graciously accepted it. “That got my juices flowing, I must say. I’ve had… certain dealings with them in the past.”

  “All in good time, bub.”

  The Spider’s smile vanished. “I am not a particularly patient person, as I’ve already stated,” he said slowly. “And I’m beginning to feel you’re being evasive.”

  “All right already!” Daffodil sighed. “We want you to help us take down Manticorps. We just ain’t figured out how to do it yet.”

  “Haven’t figured out how to do it yet? Surely your esteemed accomplice Frankie has some ideas?”

  “He likes to stay in the background. We’re the brains in this caper.”

  “Two babes in arms?” The Spider shook his head in disbelief. “What is this? Amateur hour?”

  “We’ll come up with somethin. After all, we sprung you without a hitch.”

  “That may be so,” the Spider countered, “but Manticorps are a force to be reckoned with. I’m understandably reluctant to sign up for a suicide mission.”

  “We won’t let anyone get killed,” Daffodil snapped back. “Not even you.”

  “Very well.” The Spider leaned back in the chair and began to count his money. “I suppose I do owe you a favour. You may depend on my assistance.”

  “I’m going to check on the kid who’s driving. See what he has to say.” Scotty clambered to the front and wriggled into the passenger seat.

  “Everything OK back there?” Charlie asked. “Sounds like we’ve got your pal on our side.”

  “He’s not my pal and he’s definitely not on your side,” Primo whispered. “He’s about to hijack this van and probably murder us all in the process.”

  “He said he’d help,” the boy hissed. “I heard him.”

  “Everything about his posture and tone of voice indicates the opposite.” Scotty glanced back, but the Spider was still counting. “I’m an expert on reading people, remember? You just gave him a fake ID and a pile of cash. He doesn’t need us any more.”

  “But he hates Manticorps. Frankie said he’d want revenge.”

  “And I imagine he’ll do it his way, in his own time.” Scotty insisted. “That psycho’s not going to risk his new-found freedom taking directions from a couple of kids.”

  The Spider was now inspecting the documents carefully, head bobbing happily.

  “Did you hear all that, Frankie?” Charlie murmured. “Better do something quick.”

  “Who are you talking to?” Primo glanced around. “There’s nobody else here.”

  “That’s what the Spider thinks too.” The boy wiped his forehead. “But right now I bet Frankie is talking to Mac.”

  In the rear, Daffodil tilted her head, listening intently. Then she got up and slid open the side door. “Tad? Come look at this. I think you’ll be pretty surprised.”

  “Look at what?” The Spider tucked away his documents and leaned out of the opening. “Where are we anyway?”

  “Bye, sucker.” Daffodil put a boot on his rear and pushed.

  The Spider soared out of the van with a yell and landed on the grass verge, rolling into a ditch.

  “Bet you’re surprised now!” She waved and shut the door. “Keep on keepin on!”

  “What the…?” Charlie whirled round in his seat. “Couldn’t you just have knocked him unconscious?”

  “Drive!” Scotty thumped him on the shoulder. “Get out of here, kid, before that monster recovers and tears us limb from limb!”

  The van picked up speed and vanished into the night.

  *

  The White Spider crawled from a muddy channel, bruised but unharmed, and spat out a wad of dirt. His eyes sparkled with hatred, body rigid in its fury.

  “Nobody treats me that way!” he roared after the vanishing tail lights, spittle flecking his lips. “I will not be disrespected in such an outrageous manner.”

  He began to run down the road after the vehicle. After a few hundred yards he came to an isolated dwelling. A bicycle was fastened to the perimeter fence by a rubber-coated chain.

  The Spider sank to his knees and opened his mouth. He fastened his teeth on the rubber and bit down, shaking his head like a dog. Blood began to ooze over his lips, but he ignored the pain.

  The chain snapped in half.

  The man raised his head and sniffed the air. Dozens of smells assaulted his senses. Petrol and diesel fumes. Wet leaves. Farm animals. Cut hay. Food cooking.

  The soapy scent of a recently washed vehicle.

  “There you are.”

  He climbed onto the bike and started pedalling, following the van’s aroma. His legs pumped and he began to gather speed. Twenty miles an hour. Then thirty. Faster than a human should possibly be able to ride.

  The bike had no headlights but he negotiated each shadowy twist and bend as if he could see in the dark. For he could see in the dark.

  “Shouldn’t have made me so angry,” he kept repeating to himself, as the wind whipped though his clothes. “Shouldn’t ever make me angry.”

  25

  The White Spider wasn’t the only angry one. Charlie drove, tight-lipped, trying desperately to hold his wrath in check.

  All that planning and effort. And nothing to show for it!

  Scotty Primo wasn’t happy either. He climbed into the back of the van and confronted Daffodil.

  “You told me you were going to send that monster back to prison,” he shouted. “I wouldn’t have helped otherwise.”

  “Clam down, buddy.” She pinched his cheek. “There’s a tiny tracker hidden in the cover of Spidey’s ID,
as a safety precaution. When we reach our base, my accomplice can report his whereabouts to the cops and he’ll be back in Sunnyside before you can say, ‘I’m an ungrateful jerk’.”

  “Glad to hear it.” Scotty was still shaking. “Still, it sounds like whatever plan you were cooking up has gone well and truly pear-shaped.”

  “We’ll manage.” Daffodil leaned into the cab and put a hand on Charlie’s shoulder. “Ain’t that right? Nothing stops the Armageddon Twins.”

  “I planned this down to the last detail.” Charlie looked round slowly. “And you screwed it up, you cretin.”

  “Chaz?”

  “Get. Your. Hand. Off. MY SHOULDER!”

  The boy slammed a fist onto the dashboard and it went straight through the plastic. Daffodil recoiled as if she’d been struck too.

  “But Frankie told me to do it,” she said quietly.

  “You should have ignored that spineless coward” Charlie spat. “This is my bloody plan and I call the shots. Got that?”

  “Cool it, kid!” Scotty interjected. “The Spider would have killed you both. This girl just saved your life.” He pulled Daffodil away. “What the hell is wrong with him?”

  Charlie was gripping the steering wheel so tightly, his nails were imbedded in the plastic. He took deep quick breaths, trying to calm himself.

  “It would take too long to explain, but it ain’t his fault.” Daffodil shook Scotty off and leaned into the cab. “Sounds like the Atlas Serum talking, Charlie, not you.” She spoke calmly and soothingly, her tone low and soft. “You told me how it made people more aggressive but I never really appreciated that until now. But you gotta fight it, huh? You’re my rock, Chaz. I depend on you.”

  “I’m sorry,” Charlie was still shaking, tears running down his face. “You’re right. Please forgive me.”

  “Nothing to forgive. We’re both under a huge amount of stress. You’ll think of something else, sure you will.” She reached out tentatively and stroked his cheek. “I’ve gotta go back and sort out stuff with Mr Primo. You just drive. Put on the classical station. It’s soothing. I’m near if you need me, yeah?”

  “I’ll be fine.” The boy’s voice was choked with emotion. “Thank you for understanding.”

  “No need to explain.”

  Daffodil made her way into the back again.

  “That boy needs therapy,” Scotty whispered.

  “You leave him be. He’s working through some issues, but he’s my partner and my problem.” She handed the man a paper bag. “Here’s your fake ID, a couple of thousand pounds, and your daughter’s address. Been nice meetin ya.”

  “You going to kick me out of the van too?”

  “Don’t worry, we don’t intend a double-cross.” The girl shook his hand. “You ain’t violent and kept your end of the bargain.”

  “We’ll let you off at the petrol station up ahead,” Charlie added quietly. “Frankie will wipe all digital records of you in existence, though he can’t do anything about actual photographs or paper documents.”

  “Muss your hair and grow a beard,” Daffodil added. “You won’t be recognised. I bet there ain’t a single picture ever taken where you ain’t primped and preened up the wazoo.”

  Scotty was stung by the comment. “Maybe I should leave you my comb,” he retorted. “I don’t think you have one of your own.”

  “Ain’t messing with perfection, bub.” Daffodil patted her messy hair into place.

  “We’re here.” Charlie pulled up next to a petrol station.

  “I’m in your debt.” Scotty got out of the vehicle. “Hey! Perhaps we could work together in the future. With the technology this Frankie has at his disposal, we could pull off some spectacular cons.”

  “Why doncha try getting a real job?” Daffodil replied acidly. “Show your daughter you’re more than a two-bit hoodlum.”

  She slammed the door shut and the van moved off.

  “I guess I could do that.”

  Scotty strolled into the empty forecourt. He dug into his pocket and pulled out a walkie-talkie he had palmed from the van. On a table in the vehicle was an identical device. Primo had jammed down the ‘send’ button while Daffodil was ditching the White Spider.

  “I shouldn’t have lost my cool like that.” Charlie’s voice crackled over the airwaves. “But did you really have to ditch the Spider? We’re stuffed without him.”

  “Better than being stuffed by him.” Daffodil had recovered her composure. “Anyhow, like I said, it was Frankie’s idea. Let’s just head for Bellbowrie and figure out what to do next.”

  “So, that’s where you’re holed up,” Scotty murmured.

  He listened for a few more seconds but heard no evidence that the pair intended to turn him in.

  “Oh well, it’s none of my concern. Looks like I really am free.”

  He threw the radio into the nearest bin and did a little jig on the spot. Then he used the garage payphone to call for a taxi.

  When the cab turned up, the driver rolled down his window and leaned out. “Where to, mate?”

  Scotty smiled a broad smile. Where to indeed? He could go anywhere he wanted. Even see his daughter!

  Out of the corner of his eye he saw movement. He glanced round and gave a start.

  The White Spider shot past the petrol station on a bike, briefly illuminated by the forecourt’s lights, heading in the direction the van had taken. He was leaning over the handlebars, neck stretched out and bloody teeth bared. The felon was cycling so fast that his feet were a blur.

  Scotty climbed into the cab. It was nothing to do with him, what happened to those kids. He had played his part.

  He peered out of the window, but all he could see was his own reflection staring back. A man who had never done anything for anyone except himself.

  “C’mon, pal.” The driver flicked on his meter. “I haven’t got all night. Where are we going?”

  Scotty gritted his teeth. Liberty had been so close.

  “What’s Bellbowrie?” he asked. “And how far away is it?”

  “It’s a tiny village about thirty miles west of here.”

  “Take me there. Quick as you can.”

  *

  Twenty minutes later, the taxi driver approached the village and slowed to a crawl.

  “Which house do you want, mate?” he asked.

  “I’m not sure.” Scotty pulled out a wad of notes. “Keep the change. I’ll walk around until I find the place.”

  “Do you even know what it looks like?” The cabbie accepted the fare and generous tip. “If you don’t know the address, you could be out here all night.”

  “It’ll be the only house with an abandoned bike outside.”

  “Suit yourself,” the driver muttered to himself as he drove off. “Weirdo.”

  Scotty stood alone in the main street watching the lights of the taxi sweep into the distance. Bellbowrie was small, no more than a dozen dwellings lining each side of the road. Still, he imagined Frankie and the kids would be staying somewhere more secluded. He’d have to look around.

  “After this I’m going back to a life of crime,” he grumbled. “Being decent takes too much effort. I’m going to be marching around this backwater until my legs drop off.”

  He picked a tiny side road and set off down it, whistling apprehensively to himself.

  26

  In Manticorps’ operations room, Victor’s team stared at an electronic map of Edinburgh and the surrounding area, covering the entire wall.

  “We’re getting nowhere.” Victor thumped the table. “It’s like those brats faded into thin air. Unless they do something stupid, we’ve no chance of finding them.”

  “They may have already done it.” Markus stopped studying the computer screen and spun round in his swivel chair. He was wearing a T-shirt that read ‘BITE ME’ in neon-green letters. “There was a breakout today in Sunnyside Maximum Security Facility.”

  “What has that got to do with our mission?”

  “A tee
nager helped two inmates escape,” Markus answered. “The prison cameras were down and their records have been electronically wiped, but the description given by the authorities exactly fits the girl we are looking for.” He scrolled down the screen. “They escaped in a yellow van. It is the wrong colour, but appears to be the same make and model as the Manticorps surveillance vehicle the kiddies and Mrs Ray stole.”

  “It’s been resprayed and the plates changed,” Victor guessed. “Which direction was it heading?”

  “I do not know. All CCTV cameras in the area shut down at the same time. Stayed that way for half an hour.”

  “That’ll be Frankie’s doing.” Victor jumped up and went to the map. “Show me the area where they stopped working.”

  “Easy peasy.” A dozen locales turned red.

  Hill joined them. “The fugitives will have taken the motorway and merged with its traffic. Then they’ll turn off onto some quiet country lane.”

  “How do you know?” Victor asked.

  “It’s what I’d do.” He traced the roads with calloused fingers. “Markus? Ignore the CCTV. Which speed cameras on the M7 stopped functioning around that time and which didn’t?”

  A line of black dots appeared, followed by green ones.

  “That means they got off the motorway somewhere around here.” Hill’s finger moved to the edge of the green spots. “Probably this road.”

  “They’re going north,” Victor said. “But how far?”

  “They’ll have altered course after leaving the highway,” Hill said. “A line of surveillance equipment malfunctioning is an easy trail, so it’s bound to be a ruse. They’ll change direction as soon as they’re away from anywhere normal surveillance can cover.”

  “You boys and your toys.” Candy-Anne leaned back in a chair and closed her eyes. “Wake me if you get a proper result.”

  “They didn’t double back towards the city. The suburbs are too populated and they wouldn’t want to risk being spotted.” Hill pursed his lips. “I’d say they turned east or west.”

  “There’s no turn-off going west,” Victor pointed out.

  “East it is then. Most likely on this lane.” Hill smiled to himself. “But they won’t travel more than twenty or thirty miles.”