by Jon Robinson
‘Julian!’ Luthan called out. Julian glanced over his shoulder and continued on his way.
What did he know anyway? What did any of them know? They might have trained themselves to use the Ability – whatever it was – but what remained clear to Julian was that the blind were leading the blind.
‘I’m scared I’m going to make a fool of myself,’ Julian heard one of Stephen’s fans say.
‘I know! I feel really light-headed,’ another agreed.
Probably because your head’s empty, Julian very nearly said and began to feel a little better about himself.
As he was crossing the road, a black limousine rounded the corner and parked. There was an almighty cheer from the crowd.
Julian looked round to see Luthan waving frantically from the car, but, before he could react, the door of the limousine opened and Stephen emerged from it, bowing theatrically and grinning and giggling to himself as four security personnel positioned themselves around him. As if by some sixth sense, Stephen turned in Julian’s direction. Julian lowered his eyes but it was too late; he had been seen. He walked away quickly.
‘Aww,’ Stephen announced, ‘one of my fans is leaving. I think he’s a little too embarrassed to meet me!’
Julian ignored him and carried on walking.
‘Now, that really hurts my feelings,’ Stephen said, pouting.
The crowd all sighed collectively in sympathy. ‘But we still love you, Stephen!’ one of them screamed.
Stephen grinned. ‘Yes, yes. I know you do. That’s why whoever brings me that boy will win a ride with me in my helicopter!’
Julian stopped at the collective ear-splitting shriek from the group. The sound chilled him. He looked over his shoulder just in time to see the crowd rushing at him.
A girl threw herself at Julian’s feet, laughing and screaming, ‘I’ve got him! I’ve got him, Stephen!’ Julian tripped over on to the icy pavement, his hands smarting at the impact. He tried to kick free, but then another girl grabbed his other foot and one leapt on to his back. Such was the chaos that even Stephen’s burly security guards seemed unwilling to break it up. At the bottom of the pile Julian was winded, as more and more bodies piled on top of him until he could feel his ribs caving into his body and random hands pulling and plucking and scratching at him. A stray fingernail jabbed his eye, another his mouth.
He bit down as hard as he could. There was a squeal of pain in between the laughter and cheers and yells of ‘I got him! I was first!’ Eventually some of the girls began fighting one another, frenziedly declaring ownership of their prize.
‘Get off!’ he gasped, unable even to scream. ‘Please … I … I can’t breathe …’
At once there was a faint whomp. That familiar sound.
‘Julian!’ he heard a voice cry. ‘Julian!’
Some of the weight lifted from his back. There was another whomp. An ibis. More of Stephen’s fans climbed away, screaming.
Julian managed to knock some of the fans away and crawled to his feet, clutching his ribs. He knelt by a car, doubled over and gathering his precious breath. He saw Luthan firing an ibis to scatter the crowd.
As Julian was recovering, a polished designer shoe kicked him in the mouth. His head slammed back against the car. ‘Imbecile!’ Stephen shrieked. ‘Worthless, useless little peasant … I know you hacked my website! Thought you’d come back and intimidate me, did you?’
He launched a second kick but Julian dodged the attack. Stephen’s foot struck the car and he squealed, clutching his foot. Mustering some inner reserve of energy, Julian pounced and knocked him to the pavement. The two rolled around together, with Stephen screaming for his security guards. Suddenly Julian felt a jolt as Luthan grabbed him by the scruff of the neck.
‘Get to the car,’ Luthan snapped. A little dazed, Julian took a moment to locate it. Then he ran towards it and threw himself in the back. Luthan leapt inside and drove the car on to the pavement, avoiding the mass of teenage girls.
‘Not going to thank me?’ Julian mumbled out of a bleeding mouth, holding his side as the car weaved in and out of traffic.
‘Thank you? You just started a riot with the wealthiest man in the country,’ snarled a furious Luthan. ‘What makes you think I’m going to thank you for anything, you little twerp?’
‘This. This is why,’ Julian wheezed, holding something between his forefingers and thumb. He presented Luthan with a wallet. He opened it, plucked out a swipe card and threw the wallet on to the seat. ‘Access to his office. I’ll bet his Pledge key is there.’
Luthan snatched the swipe card from Julian, looked at it for a moment, then at Julian, before shoving the card in his pocket.
‘Good work, Julian,’ he said resentfully.
12
Jes was in her bedroom, cramming clothes into a holdall when a flustered Elsa appeared.
‘Jes, you’re not gonna believe what just happened to me –’
‘Nothing surprises me any more,’ Jes mumbled, not looking up.
Elsa went to speak, but stopped. ‘Why are you packing? Where are you going?’
Jes pummelled the clothes inside the holdall and zipped it shut. ‘I’m leaving.’
‘Leaving? Wait a minute, Jes – you can’t just go. What’ll you do?’
‘I don’t have the Ability, Elsa. I’m not one of you. I never will be.’ Jes looked at Elsa sadly.
‘But that doesn’t mean –’
‘It means there’s no point in me being here any more. I’m going home. It’s where I belong. It’s the only place I belong.’
‘But what if someone comes after you?’
‘I can defend myself,’ Jes snapped. ‘I’m stronger than I look. I don’t need some magic power to look after myself.’
She slung the bag over her shoulder and hurried along the corridor. When she reached the stairs, Ryan was making his way up.
‘Jes?’ he said. ‘What’s with the bag? Are you going somewh–’
‘I am – yeah,’ she muttered and stepped towards him. ‘I’m going home. Thanks, Ryan,’ she whispered. ‘For everything.’
Jes leant in and kissed him on the lips. Then she panicked and pulled away from him. God, what did I just do? It was like something had taken control of her.
‘I – I have to go,’ she said, hurrying down the stairs.
Ryan called after her, but she ignored him.
It was late afternoon when Jes arrived in her home town to an overcast sky and pavements lined with slushy ice.
She’d taken a twenty-pound note from Anton’s wallet to pay for her trains. She was sure he wouldn’t mind – not that she could ask him. Regardless of whether or not she was one of them, the Guild didn’t think she’d be safe on her own. Alyn used to think the same thing too; he didn’t trust her.
Things don’t look any different here, she thought as she left the station. Except everything felt somehow smaller, more insignificant. She wandered along the pavement, past a parade of shops. She walked through the town and cut through the suburban roads to her family home.
But when she arrived there she stopped and her mouth opened in silent protest.
Their six-bedroomed house was adorned with scaffolding, and the brickwork was charred and the lower windows boarded up. The front garden where she used to play as a little girl was blackened and spoiled, and her bedroom window was missing, exposing the dark cement. Everything that she had been desperate to return to was in ruins.
Jes backed away and bumped into a woman behind her.
‘Jes?’ said an old woman, peering at her.
‘Mrs Rhodes,’ said Jes. She looked back at the house, unable to find the words.
‘Jes, your parents – they aren’t here. They’re staying somewhere else …’
‘What happened?’ Jes said. ‘Are they OK?’
‘They’re fine.’ The old woman touched Jes’s arm. ‘It was the hooligans who did this, during one of the riots. Yours wasn’t the only house. They got another two at the end
of the road …’
Jes felt her throat tighten.
‘Jealousy,’ the old woman went on. ‘That’s why they targeted this street. The whole country’s falling apart. No one cares about each other any more. They’re animals. They just want to destroy everything.’ She touched Jes’s arm. ‘Your parents have been so worried about you. It damn near ruined them, you going off like that …’
‘I need to find them,’ Jes said, after a few moments staring at the devastated house. ‘You have to help me.’
13
The cell was just big enough for Henry to manage twelve steps in a circle. How many circles had he trodden into the cement? A hundred? A thousand? He had lost count.
There was still no news. Maybe the Guild weren’t coming. Maybe they’d given up. I wouldn’t blame them, he thought. After all, the prison was impenetrable; there was little chance they could free everyone.
No, Luthan would never leave him here. He’d do anything to bring him back. The two had been together for a decade. They were best friends, brought together by love, and the Guild. Henry smiled as a memory flashed into his thoughts of when they had last spoken, just before he had left. Luthan had warned him not to go to the prison, at least not alone. But Henry was too independent. Too stubborn. He paused, hearing footsteps in the corridor outside, and pressed his ear to the door.
‘I’ve come to see the prisoner,’ he heard Susannah say.
‘Any idea who he is yet?’ the guard replied.
‘He’s just a crazy old man who’s been living in the forest. He was trying to free all of them. Best we keep him here until we speak with the authorities.’
‘If you don’t mind me saying, things have been getting weirder in this place by the minute,’ the guard said. ‘I don’t know what the hell’s going on any more.’
‘No need to worry. This is a remote facility for young offenders surrounded by the … calming influence of nature.’
As she said this, there was a rumble of thunder.
‘I think Michael in cell fourteen has some sort of lock pick. Would you mind checking it for me?’
The guard gave a distinctly dissatisfied nod and left.
‘Just “a crazy old man who’s been living in the forest”,’ Henry repeated as she entered his cell. ‘Thanks for that.’
‘More and more of the children are getting sick,’ Susannah said. ‘Having nosebleeds. Another girl has started having blackouts.’
‘You have to stop making them watch the films,’ Henry replied. ‘Remove all of the subliminal messages. Stop making them manipulate reality. Stop everything! Otherwise they’ll all lose their minds … It’ll kill them!’
‘But Stephen …’
‘Stephen won’t know. Stephen isn’t here. You’re in charge. It’s down to you, Susannah. But you need to act soon. You need to act now.’
14
It had been several hours since Alyn had been taken back to the abandoned church. He sat on the floor in the aisle between the pews, staring at the flickering candle flame.
In his hands was the photograph of Luthan, the man he’d been ordered to bring to Emmanuel. If he obeyed, Luthan was as good as dead.
A door creaked suddenly and Alyn sat up, alert. Footsteps clicked over the stone, before halting.
‘Something on your mind, Alyn?’ Emmanuel said, walking slowly towards him.
‘You have my father,’ Alyn murmured, refusing to look at him. ‘You threatened to kill him. And my friends.’
Emmanuel lifted the black scarf from his coat and folded it over one of the wooden pews. ‘Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that. You understand what you have to do.’
‘You want me to bring you Luthan.’ Alyn shook his head. ‘Even if I wanted to, I couldn’t.’
‘Such little faith in yourself. You have no idea what you are capable of.’ Emmanuel paused, looking up at the rafters. ‘Do you see that bird?’
Alyn glanced up, but chose not to answer.
Emmanuel shut his eyes and waved his hand. Instantly a pigeon fell to the floor, unconscious.
‘Visualize a sudden explosive flash in the centre of the creature’s mind,’ Emmanuel said. ‘Now you try.’
Alyn looked up at the rafters. In response to the sudden collapse of its partner, a second pigeon was fluttering its wings anxiously.
Alyn closed his eyes. He imagined his locus, a butterfly, entering the mind of the pigeon to plunge it into sudden unconsciousness. But when he opened his eyes the bird had settled back on the beams with little concern.
‘Again,’ Emmanuel ordered. ‘Your imagination is not strong enough.’
Alyn shut his eyes and tried again, tensing his jaw in concentration. Moments later, there was a flustered flapping of wings and the pigeon fell, landing a little way from the first.
‘Good,’ Emmanuel said, and picked up his scarf. ‘Luthan has been following Stephen Nover as of late, but has been unable to get close. I’m meeting Nover tomorrow. I’m sure Luthan will be there. Bring him to me, Alyn.’
‘Why can’t you do it? I don’t understand why it has to be me,’ Alyn protested.
‘Luthan is too adept. He’ll be able to sense my presence before I’m able to get close enough.’ He began walking down the aisle, while Alyn sat motionless, staring at the unconscious pigeon. ‘Prove your commitment to me, Alyn. Help me defeat the Guild.’
15
Jes arrived at a little house on the other side of town, clutching the address her neighbour had written on a piece of paper.
She rang the doorbell. Then she rang it again, and again, and kept jabbing the button until a shape appeared in the glass.
Jes’s father threw open the door and stood looking at her for several seconds.
‘Jes,’ he said quietly.
Jes beamed at him, thumbing a tear away from the corner of her eye. ‘Dad, I’m so pleased to see you,’ she said.
He threw his arms round her and hugged her tightly and she cried and laughed.
‘You promise me you’re all right?’ Jes’s father said, after telephoning her mother to come home from work. ‘And no one hurt you? Are you sure?’
Jes winced at the thought of the bullet wound in her side. Tell my parents I was shot? She decided it might be better to keep that a secret.
‘I don’t care what happened, Jes, I just want you to be honest with me …’
‘No one hurt me, Dad,’ she said. She took a deep breath to try and settle her nerves. ‘I was in a prison. There were almost a hundred of us there, we –’
‘A prison?’
‘Yeah, but it wasn’t a real prison. I mean, it looked like one and everything, but it wasn’t real …’
‘So a fake prison?’
Jes nodded. ‘There was a reason for us being there, Dad.’
‘I’d love to hear it …’
‘You wouldn’t believe me if I told you,’ she mumbled.
‘Try me.’ He put his arm round her shoulder.
‘The world’s stranger than you think,’ Jes answered. ‘Than anyone thinks.’ Her voice became distant and ethereal. ‘There are people who have this power …’
‘Power? What kind of power?’
‘They can influence probability, chance, by manipulating coincidences. They can make things happen, Dad.’
‘How do you know all of this?’
‘Because I was one of them.’
‘You … were?’
‘I’ve lost the Ability, though. Somehow. The Pledge, this group of billionaires, kidnapped us and were using us to manipulate things for them. And people. They were trying to repair the country …’
Jes’s father looked lost. Then slowly he began to laugh. ‘Jes,’ he said in between breaths, ‘someone’s made a fool out of you … They’ve been playing a joke on you or something …’ He squeezed her arm. ‘This is the craziest thing I’ve ever heard.’
‘Imagine how I felt,’ she said. ‘Then we found the Guild and they –’
‘The Guild?’
<
br /> ‘They’re a training order. For people with the Ability.’
Jes’s father laughed again, throwing his head back.
‘Dad, stop. Please.’
‘We thought you were dead,’ he whispered. ‘We thought something terrible had happened. And it turns out you were in the plot of some science-fiction story. Or fantasy. Come to think of it, I don’t even know what genre it is.’
Jes smiled. ‘Me neither, Dad.’
Jes’s father put his arms round her again. The pair sat in silence, while outside it started to rain.
16
Ryan threw another shot at the punchbag, then a second and a third. He wore a scruffy red jumper, borrowed from Anton, inside out, in defiance of the offending football team logo on the front.
‘I’m knackered,’ Ryan panted, wiping his forehead.
‘You wanted some last-minute training before we go after Blythe,’ said Anton. Then, as Ryan resumed, he added, ‘Anyway, keep your other hand up. You’re leaving yourself open.’
‘Look, I know how to punch, all right?’ Ryan grumbled.
‘In the playground. But you come up against someone who knows what they’re doing and you’re stuffed.’
Ryan threw a few more punches quickly.
‘Someone annoyed you?’ Anton asked with a smile.
Ryan frowned and landed another shot on the bag. It was Jes’s decision to leave. He’d been worrying about her for the past day, and with no way of contacting her he was anxious that they might never see each other again.
Ryan stopped punching the bag and leant over, gasping for air. He mopped a film of sweat from his forehead. ‘So we’re basically gonna follow some rich drunk bloke and force him to give us a key. If we screw this up, we’re gonna end up inside for real, you know.’
He waited until Anton had left and was about to resume his attack on the bag, but paused, taken by a memory of the night he was kidnapped. Even though it hadn’t been that long ago, it seemed a lifetime had passed. Maybe it was another lifetime; after all, he was a different person now, wasn’t he? Before then he’d spent his whole life with his mother on a rough estate in a free-fall of failing grades and petty crime, surrounded by people who’d already given up. What was the point in trying? There were times when it felt like he was suffocating under it all. Being dragged deeper into an inescapable pit.
