The minister hardly reacted at all — at first. Slash moved closer. He began to sniff up and down him. He pawed at the minister's dog-collar. The minister moved for the first time. Jimmy thought he was just moving his arms to protect himself, but then there was a flash of metal, a blur of movement and suddenly Slash wasn't sniffing at him any more.
The Jungle King staggered backwards. He pawed uselessly at the air. Then he collapsed down on to the stage.
The crowd jumped to their feet, cheering, convinced it was all part of the act, even as blood began to seep out of his costume and across the floor. It was only when the minister stepped forward, and they saw a long, thin dagger in his hand; when they saw him wave it in the air and shout something out, once, twice, again and again, that they finally began to fall silent, that the music ceased and the relentless druming of feet faded and they at last began to understand what had happened as they heard the words of the wild-eyed man holding the bloody knife aloft and screaming:
'Long live the President! Long live the President!'
First Officer Jeffers was the first to react. He stepped forward and grabbed Cleaver's arm; he snapped it back, causing him to release the dagger. As it clattered on to the stage floor Jeffers twisted Cleaver's arm further up, and at the same time kicked at the back of his knees, which gave way, forcing him to the ground. The Royal Butchers, the Wolf Man and the rest of the cast all crowded around Slash; the audience surged forward, screaming and howling. They began to clamber on to the stage. As they advanced Jeffers yelled back at Claire: 'Get out of here! Move it!' Claire was frozen to the spot. Until Dr Hill clamped a hand on her arm and began to pull her backwards she hadn't realised that the others had already begun to move off the stage. Jeffers himself now bounded away as the mob descended on Cleaver. As fists and boots began to rain down on him there was a massive clump of a noise, and the entire building shook. Masonry showered down on the stage and across the seats in the auditorium. Another dull explosion came, even louder, with shock waves strong enough to throw half of them to the floor.
Jimmy and Ronni, caught up in the surge forward and now picking themselves up, might have been the only ones in the entire theatre who realised what was happening.
Artillery.
A familiar sound from Fort Hope.
The theatre was under attack by the President's army.
The war had begun!
Panic gripped everyone as more shells began to land.
A hole was blown in the ceiling and when the smoke cleared the night sky was clearly visible.
They heard an urgent rat-tat-tat of gunfire. People were running everywhere — some towards the exits, others swarming across the stage looking for a way out.
Only Jimmy seemed to know exactly where he was going — he kept his eyes firmly fixed on where Claire had disappeared backstage and charged after her, dragging Ronni along with him. They ducked as the theatre was struck again and scenery crashed to the floor all around them. Jimmy would not be stopped, but there was a moment of confusion when he got backstage and he couldn't see Claire any more. Then he caught just a glimpse of Jeffers' baseball cap as he disappeared down a set of stairs on the far side. With people running everywhere it took them a while to get across, but soon they were on the stairs and taking them four and five at a time, sliding down using the hand rail for support.
Another explosion — and the lights went out. There were screams of pain and shouts of confusion. Jimmy kept a tight grip on the rail and just kept going.
'Jimmy — please . . .' cried Ronni. 'We'll kill ourselves!'
He said nothing. He pressed ahead. Ronni kept a tight hold of his T-shirt and allowed herself to be dragged along. Then — dead ahead, a flashlight beam. He focused in on that.
Down another two sets of stairs and along a corridor, the air thick with dust.
A metallic clank — and then the flash beam disappeared.
'Hey!' Jimmy called. 'Hey!'
But another shell had struck, an alarm had finally gone off, and there was too much noise for him to be heard. They hurried blindly forward. They tripped and fell and righted themselves. They came to what was their best estimation of where the light had suddenly disappeared. Jimmy began to feel his way forward, his foot out in front, his arms stretched left and right, anxious not to miss the avenue of escape. It was the stench that made him stop, then the choking, fetid air. Somewhere below . . .
He foot-skimmed the floor until it came to a hole, then felt around with his hands to detect the circumference. Yes, wide enough. And there, a ladder.
'Jimmy . . . ?'
'Down here.'
He lowered himself into the hole, then began a rapid descent, no thought for what might be below.
'Jimmy — wait for me!'
'Come on!'
As they disappeared below ground level the whump and crump of the explosions faded, to be replaced by the sound of gushing water. The stink of sewage and rats. They came suddenly to the dank, slippery floor and stood in the complete and utter darkness. For the first time, Jimmy was actually lost — there were only two ways to go, but it was impossible to be sure which way was right. He was almost overwhelmed with the despair of realising that he had come so close, but was now on the brink of failure.
There was nothing for it but to yell.
'Claire!'
'Shhhh!' cried Ronni. 'What if—'
'Claire! Claire!'
They heard it echo along the sewage tunnel.
'Jimmy . . .'
'Shhhhh listen . . .'
Then there was nothing.
Nothing.
Nothing.
Until, from a distance of not more than a metre, a torch blinked on and they were blinded. As they shielded their faces and prepared for the worst a familiar voice said,' What?'
35
Encounter
It was not exactly as Jimmy had imagined it, this reunion, deep in the sewers beneath a theatre which was being reduced to rubble by a man who had deluded himself into thinking he was the President of the United States. Claire stood in the back-glow from the torch, bedraggled, thin, pale, angry. Jimmy didn't have the faintest clue what to say. He wanted to hug her, but could not bring himself to. He wanted to apologise for what he'd done, for letting her down, for allowing her to be shot, for betraying the Titanic.
But all he could manage was: 'Bad hair day, is it?' The torch flashed from Jimmy to Ronni. 'Who's she?'
'Ronni,' said Ronni.
'She's my friend,' said Jimmy.
'Bad luck you,' said Claire to Ronni.
From away along the tunnel Dr Hill yelled: 'Claire! Come on!'
Claire looked at them. 'Well if you're coming, let's go.'
She spun away. They didn't see her wipe a tear from her eye.
Jimmy, obviously, didn't wipe a tear of his own away. That would have been ridiculous. Absolutely not. No way.
Ronni said, 'Are you OK?' as they quickly followed after Claire.
'Yes, of course I'm OK. Why wouldn't I be OK?'
'I thought she was your best friend?'
'I never said that,' said Jimmy.
***
After a while they stopped, gathering in a wider section of the sewer tunnel where it branched out in several directions. Jimmy was surprised to see how many of them there were — not just Claire and Jeffers and Dr Hill, but various crew and passengers he recognised, plus an odd assortment of men and women in animal masks which they were only now beginning to discard — wolf heads and cheetah heads tossed into the river of sewage and drifting away.
While Jeffers and Dr Hill conferred at the crossroads, Jimmy sat on the damp floor. He said nothing, he asked no questions. Ty had given him a big hug and tried to engage him in conversation, but as soon as he established the extent of the frostiness between Jimmy and Claire he decided to leave them to it. He winked at Ronni, then drifted off. Claire sat with her back against the wall, looking wherever Jimmy didn't.
Ronni crouched beside her. 'Ar
en't they cannibals?' she whispered, nodding towards the group still partially attired in animal costumes.
'No,' said Claire, 'they're actors.'
'But they're cannibals as well! They all are!'
'No,' said Claire, 'it was a trick. Everyone thought they were eating human flesh, but it was rats. Rat stew, mostly.'
'That's . . . not possible — I saw them . . .'
'You thought you did. You didn't. Is he your boyfriend?'
'Who, Jimmy? No. I thought he was yours.'
Claire snorted. 'I don't think so. So how come you two hooked up?'
'We were both at Fort Hope.' Claire's brow furrowed in the torchlight. 'Fort Hope — it's like the President's . . . where he keeps his army . . .'
'The President? The President President?'
'No,' said Jimmy, finally approaching, talking to Claire but not looking at her. 'He just thinks he is. He used to be a senator or something. That's his army up there, attacking New York, saving it from cannibals.'
'Well, what are we doing down here, then?' Claire asked Jimmy, although she was looking at at Ronni. 'Shouldn't we be up there supporting him? Telling him they're not cannibals?'
'No,' said Jimmy, 'we shouldn't, for the simple reason that the second part of his master plan is to sieze the Titanic.'
Without looking at him she asked if Jeffers was aware of this piece of information.
'No,' said Jimmy.
'Well don't you think you should tell him?'
Jimmy grunted, and passed on up the line.
***
Although the rat-catching actors had explored some of the sewage system, their escape from the theatre had taken them beyond those limits, and without any kind of map or guidance system, Jeffers decided it was time to take everyone back up into the city in order to establish their bearings. Then they would make their way back to Grand Central to hook up with the other groups — if any of them had made it back. Hopefully from there they would also be able to re-establish radio contact with the ship and warn Captain Smith of the coming Presidential attack.
Jeffers sent out a scout into each one of the tunnels in order to locate an access ladder to the surface. Within a few minutes a shout went up that one had been discovered. The other scouts were called back and the entire group set off into a right-hand tunnel. When they found the ladder Jeffers was the first on to it, climbing rapidly, followed by Dr Hill; the rest bunched around the bottom, pushing and shoving for their turn. They were all desperate for fresh air, and without the natural discipline Jeffers' presence encouraged, it all became a bit chaotic. Jimmy and Claire found themselves squeezed towards the back, while Ty grabbed Ronni by the hand and forced her forward. They were amongst the first to pull themselves up out of the scrum to begin their climb towards the world above.
Jimmy and Claire looked at each other. They looked away. There were a thousand things they wanted to say, they each wanted to know every detail of what the other had experienced. But still neither of them was ready to make the first move.
Jimmy took an elbow to the ribs as one of the former wolf men shoved in front of him. He cursed and stepped back out of the crowd. Claire pretended not to notice. She stepped into his space and pushed forward.
He was happy and angry. He wanted to hug her and slap her stupid head.
One by one they hauled themselves up until finally there was only Jimmy left. He looked up at the feet and bums disappearing upwards, moving towards a faint dot of light, like astronauts returning to their planet, mission accomplished. As he put his hands on the bottom rung and was about to pull himself up he was distracted by a noise off to his left — there, along the sewer, another prick of light.
Someone was coming.
36
City of Night
Tracer bullets lit the night sky. The thump of explosions continued to shake the earth. The group of fugitives snaked along the debris-littered sidewalks towards Grand Central, ordered to silence, torches off, terrified that at any moment their presence might be revealed and they would be captured or shot by the President's men. The cannibals themselves no longer seemed such a threat. When they had first emerged from the sewer they had spotted small, ragged bands of them fleeing west, away from the advancing troops. They saw others carrying white flags going in the opposite direction. Those that were still resisting would surely soon be overwhelmed, and then there would be nothing to stop the soldiers racing across the city towards the Titanic. They might not be able to lure it into harbour, the way King Slash had planned, but there was no shortage of abandoned boats the soldiers could use to get them close enough to use their undoubted firepower to force Captain Smith to surrender the ship.
It seemed to Jimmy that the past few days had all been about dread, followed by dread, with a little bit of dread thrown in for good measure. When would it ever end? Yes, sure, Claire was back, but he had managed to forget in her absence that she was mean and sullen and now he wasn't really sure why he'd bothered to search for her in the first place. He was cold. And hungry. They were entering Grand Central Station — he'd heard of it, seen it in films, but Jimmy wasn't one to be overly impressed by architecture or reputation. It was just a big building with trains. To make matters worse he stepped right into a huge pile of crap as soon as they entered.
Jimmy slid off his trainer and wiped it on an upended bench seat. It had risen right up over the knot and soaked into his admittedly already rancid sock. He peeled it off and tossed it angrily away.
'What sort of a bloody animal makes that much crap?' he was demanding when he was immediately shhhhed by everyone around him.
First Officer Jeffers led them towards the rendezvous point. He stopped them a short distance from it and called out the names of the crewmen he had sent to accompany the other passengers. They were still six hours short of the agreed time, but there were already a large group of returnees waiting. They rushed out of the shadows as if the cavalry had arrived and immediately began shaking hands and patting backs.
Claire said to Jimmy: 'Shouldn't you be talking to them, getting their stories?'
'Shouldn't you be taking their photos? Oh yeah, you let some little fella steal your camera.'
Without thinking, Claire snapped back: 'I got another one, smart arse.'
'Oh yeah? Where is it?'
'The cannibals took it off me.'
'You mean the rattibals?'
'That isn't even a word, you thick—'
Ty sighed out loud. 'Could you two just . . . give each other a hug or something and stop this bickering?'
'Huh,' said Claire.
'That'll be the day,' said Jimmy.
Ty wasn't prepared to give up so easily. 'Look, all you have to do is . . .' He turned and grabbed hold of Ronni. He crushed her to him. He kissed the top of her head and in a high-pitched voice cried, 'Oh Jimmy, I missed you!' He released Ronni and smiled at the two of them. 'See — easy as that!'
Ronni stood in shock.
'Get a life,' rasped Claire, turning away.
'Wise up, would you?' griped Jimmy.
Without acknowledging it, of course, Jimmy had to concede that Claire had a point about the interviews. Despite his adventures over the past few days, he was still a reporter, and he was determined if they got through this to make sure he got his old job back. So he set about interviewing the returnees, though he made it look as if he was just having a casual chat, so that if Claire looked over it wouldn't seem like he was working. Claire, meanwhile, salvaged a disposable camera from a shattered gift shop and began surreptitiously taking pictures whenever she thought Jimmy wasn't watching her.
The stories were all similar, and predictable. Few had made it as far as their original destinations. There had been encounters with cannibals and bandits and giant rats and escaped zoo animals. Those who had made it home had found either skeletons or no trace of their loved ones; they had landed with unrealistically high hopes. Now all they wanted was to return to the safety of Titanic.
Once they
were settled at the rendezvous point, Jeffers and Dr Hill tried unsuccessfully to raise the ship using the radios of the returning crewmen; then ventured outside again in pursuit of a signal. They returned, grim-faced, less than ten minutes later.
'I don't know — some kind of jamming device,' was all the first officer said.
They sat about in small groups in the food court, most of them wishing that they could just move out now without waiting for the rendezvous deadline, but nobody was prepared to actually say it. Jimmy, Claire, Ty and Ronni occupied one booth. Ty got Jimmy to tell his story — everything that had happened since he'd lost Claire in the woods. Claire feigned disinterest. Ronni asked Claire what had happened to her since she'd gotten lost in the woods, and made sympathetic noises when Claire showed her her bullet wound.
Jimmy yawned and looked elsewhere.
'What I don't understand,' Ty said, 'is that guy, Cleaver, the minister, suddenly pulling a knife like that and killing Slash . . .'
'I always knew he was a killer,' said Claire.
'But why attack Slash when we were about to be released?'
'Because he wasn't a minister,' said Jimmy. They all looked at him. He nodded around them. 'You heard what he shouted? Long live the President! I saw his picture back at Fort Hope in an army uniform but until now I couldn't work out what he was doing pretending he was a minister. He was an assassin, sent out in advance of the attack on the city to kill Slash. What is it they say? Cut off the head and the body will die? Something like that.'
'And he heard about the Titanic,' said Claire. 'Maybe that guy in the woods told him, maybe that's why he killed him — maybe—'
'Too many maybes,' said Jimmy.
Claire glared at him. She was about to snap something back when Ty said: 'What about some peace and quiet for a while? I'm tired.' He rested his head on Ronni's shoulder and closed his eyes. Ronni looked up at Jimmy, mildly panicked. Jimmy smiled. Claire, despite her anger, couldn't help smiling either.
Titanic 2020: Cannibal City t2-2 Page 20
