Somewhere (Nowhere Book 3)

by Jon Robinson

  Jes hurried over and put her arms round his shoulders. In each other’s arms they swayed from side to side, as though attempting some strange, uncoordinated dance.

  Julian looked away from them, then reached down and flicked through the map.

  After a short while, he pointed to a grid. ‘Here,’ he said.

  ‘Museum Street? That’s not far from here,’ Elsa said, looking over and wiping her nose again.

  Julian tore the page out and shoved it in his pocket. ‘Jes, Alyn!’ he called. ‘Let’s go.’

  58

  ‘Now what?’ Elsa said breathlessly as they came to Museum Street almost half an hour later. Rows of little shops were shuttered and boarded along both sides. Apart from a tramp scavenging through a bin on the corner, there was not a soul around.

  ‘This is definitely the right place,’ Julian answered, comparing it to the map. ‘We just have no idea what we’re looking for.’

  The group separated and began wandering up and down the street.

  Almost twenty minutes passed and they were still none the wiser about what to do next. In his frustration Julian sat on an upturned bin and planted his head in his hands.

  ‘Help us, Julian!’ Elsa called over, beckoning him to stand.

  ‘Help you do what? Get even more confused? We don’t know what we’re looking for!’

  Elsa shook her head disappointedly and hurried after Jes and Alyn.

  It was as Julian turned his eyes from her that he paused. In front of him was a bookshop.

  KRISTOF & PLEDGE ANTIQUARIAN BOOKS

  ‘I think I’ve found it,’ he said, standing slowly. He waited in the silence for a response from the others that never came. ‘I said I think I’ve found it!’

  Elsa was the first to reach him. She glanced at the shuttered door sceptically, then looked up at the sign.

  ‘Kristof … and Pledge. This has to be it.’

  Alyn took a step towards the door and peered through the shutters. Inside everything was dark. He rang the buzzer.

  ‘No one here,’ said Elsa. She leant down and picked up a small stone and launched it at the window.

  A dog began barking somewhere in the distance. Moments later, a face appeared at the window on the upper floor.

  ‘What is it?’ growled an old man, pushing the window open. He had a round bulb-shaped nose and tufts of grey hair creeping eccentrically out of his skull like weeds.

  ‘We’ve come for something!’ Elsa called up to him.

  ‘We’re not open. Now go away.’

  The man was about to slam the window shut when Elsa shouted back up to him. ‘Please,’ she said. ‘This is really, really important.’

  The old man sighed. ‘What do you want?’

  ‘We don’t know,’ Alyn answered. ‘But something was left here for us.’

  ‘Felix!’ Julian called up. ‘James Felix. The billionaire who died recently. Has he ever visited your shop?’

  The man paused, squinting down at the group. ‘Not Felix, no. But a man came here a year ago and asked if we could store something for Mr Felix in our cabinet. An antique book, I presumed. I thought it was a strange request, young man, but he paid very well, so who was I to turn him down?’ He smiled, but his smile quickly turned to suspicion. ‘Who are you?’

  ‘We’ve come to collect that parcel,’ Alyn replied.

  ‘Is that so? Do you really think I’m just going to let you have it?’

  ‘How else would we know?’ Julian argued. ‘And, besides, it isn’t a book.’ He lifted one of the keys. ‘It’s a machine.’

  The old man gave Julian a sceptical look and disappeared from the window. A couple of minutes later he appeared at the door, downstairs.

  ‘Come on then,’ said the man, lifting the shutters. He still seemed wary of the group, examining each one of them in turn.

  They quickly entered before he changed his mind. The shelves were overflowing with books. The shop smelt of damp paper and cardboard, a welcoming, even intoxicating, scent.

  ‘Come,’ the bookseller muttered impatiently.

  The group followed him into the next room. The far wall was lined with glass cabinets.

  The owner shuffled through the keys on his belt and opened one of the cabinets. Inside was a book-shaped parcel.

  He removed the parcel and tore away the brown paper. ‘Certainly looks like a book to me.’

  ‘Open it,’ said Alyn.

  The bookseller gave a weary sigh and lifted the cover.

  Inside was a hollowed-out page and a small square metal box, not much bigger than a Rubik’s Cube. The box contained four keyholes.

  Alyn held out his hand. Jes passed him the four keys.

  ‘Wait,’ Elsa protested. ‘What if the prison just blows up straight away, with everyone inside?’

  ‘And risk killing a hundred inmates?’ Alyn shook his head. ‘Felix wasn’t a murderer.’

  ‘Let’s hope not,’ Julian answered.

  Alyn hesitated for a moment, then tried each of the keys inside a hole until they all fitted.

  ‘Can someone tell me what’s going on?’ said the bookseller.

  ‘Nothing’s happening,’ said Elsa.

  ‘The electromagnetic pulse that caused the blackout stopped everything from working,’ Julian said, and looked at Alyn. ‘Unless …’

  ‘Unless we make it work,’ Alyn said. He shut his eyes, imagining a butterfly fluttering inside the machine, stirring the dormant static charge into a tiny electrical surge.

  He surrendered to his imagination, watching in a trance as clouds cracked and sizzled, laced with sparks of white like some thunderstorm bringing the end of the world. His eyelids flickered and he felt the warm trickle of blood on his lip. One of the others was calling his name, but the sound was muffled and muted, as though it was underwater.

  Alyn opened his eyes. The light on the box began flashing red and beeping, until the beeps and flashes grew into a rapid flicker.

  ‘You did it,’ was the last thing he heard. And then nothing.

  59

  It was the boy at the front of the classroom who first noticed the sound coming out of the speakers. It was little more than a faint crackle, but, if he strained his ears, he was sure he could hear a voice.

  He looked around, while the projector light flickered over him. It was getting louder.

  ‘Eyes on the screen,’ said the guard, pointing his ibis at him.

  The boy raised his hand. ‘Sir, there’s a sound … a noise …’

  ‘I can hear it too,’ said a girl at the back of the room.

  One of the guards marched along the aisle of desks. ‘If you don’t shut it right now, I swear I’m going to –’

  ‘Evacuate immediately,’ boomed the recorded voice from the loudspeaker. ‘ This facility will destruct in ten minutes. Evacuate immediately …’ An alarm wailed painfully, echoing off the concrete walls.

  A wave of agitation spread among the inmates, and many clambered out of their seats.

  ‘Sit back down!’ yelled one of the guards, firing his ibis.

  The security light above the classroom door bleeped and there was a metallic click as the door unlocked, as did each of the cells in unison.

  ‘We’re free!’ one of the inmates shouted, once the clatter of metal had ceased.

  At least two guards were knocked to the floor and trampled as the inmates collectively charged for the exit.

  Susannah left her office and walked briskly along the corridor. She clutched the folder close to her chest. In it was everything she needed for a new life: a passport, money. A fresh start. She could feel Nowhere start to tremble beneath her feet, and dust and plaster broke from the ceiling.

  When Susannah turned, a small blond-haired boy was watching her by the door at the far end. A little smear of dried blood was on his upper lip.

  ‘Tom!’ Susannah gasped. ‘Didn’t you hear the evacuation warning? Get a move on, will you?’

  Tom remained still.

  �
�Quickly!’ Susannah urged. She began running towards the door.

  ‘Guess you were right after all,’ he said. ‘I am a bad person. I’ve done awful things … I’m guilty.’

  With that, he shut the door and locked it, leaving Susannah trapped inside.

  ‘No!’ Susannah yelled, running at the door. ‘It was all a lie … to make you compliant … You’re not … you’re not a bad person. None of you are!’

  ‘Aren’t I?’ she heard him say from the other side of the door.

  ‘Wait,’ Susannah begged. ‘Please, open it up! Let me out!’

  But he had already gone. The scent of brick and dust and rubble filled the air. She turned and ran back along the length of the corridor to the door at the other end but by then it was too late: a crack had appeared in the concrete beneath her feet and everything came apart – the walls, the ceiling and the floor. Susannah had just enough time to take a final breath.

  It seemed to take an age before the cloud of dust settled after the explosion. Amid the spluttering and shouting and crying, Henry was leant over by a tree, coughing noisily into his fist.

  ‘Are you – are you gonna tell me what was going on?’ a baffled guard asked Henry.

  Henry coughed a final time into his hand. Slowly he straightened his back.

  ‘You mean to tell me you had no idea?’ he said. ‘You’ve been keeping all these children captive, in a forest, despite them telling you they were all innocent?’

  ‘But they –’

  ‘Despite you all brainwashing them? You didn’t think to speak out about it? Tell people what had happened?’

  ‘They – they said it was just some … some new scheme.’

  Henry glared at him, disbelieving.

  ‘I – I was just obeying orders,’ said the guard, as if to excuse himself.

  ‘Obeying orders,’ Henry repeated. ‘Just obeying orders.’ He shook his head and walked round to the far end of the crowd of over ninety children and ten guards, who were staring at the ruins in disbelief.

  ‘All of you!’ Henry shouted, and waited for silence to resume. ‘All of you have been part of something that you never should have been. Not just you,’ he said, turning from the children to the guards. ‘But you too. And now you’re going home. You’re free.’

  He let his words sink in and said, ‘There’s a road just a few miles away. Once we make it there, my people will be waiting.’ With that, he set off through the trees, followed by the snaking procession of ninety-four inmates in their grey uniforms.

  60

  Emmanuel stood opposite the abandoned underground station, surrounded by a dozen of his followers with flaming torches. He looked at the man beside him, who was holding a piece of gauze against a cut on his forehead.

  ‘It was here that they attacked me,’ the man said. He pointed at the alleyway. ‘They came from down there.’

  Emmanuel walked down the alleyway. His fingers skimmed the brick.

  ‘They’re here,’ he murmured. ‘I can feel the Ability.’ He looked over his shoulder. ‘I want none of them left alive.’

  He stood beside the boarded wooden door and pushed it.

  The door creaked open. Emmanuel took a flaming torch from one of the group and held it to the darkness.

  ‘Who’s there?’ came a weak voice. ‘Elsa? Ryan? Is that you?’

  Before Emmanuel could place a foot inside, a hand grabbed his arm.

  ‘Sir, look!’ said one of his men.

  Emmanuel turned to see a street lamp flickering. And then another. Soon the whole row of lights returned to life.

  ‘I thought the power wasn’t coming back until we’d –’

  ‘It’s over,’ Emmanuel said quietly, and was filled with a sudden sense of despair.

  As he said this, a cacophony of car alarms, sirens and noise filled the street, a wonderful manic mess of music.

  ‘The police will be here soon,’ said one of the men, touching Emmanuel’s arm. ‘We’d better get going.’

  With that, each of the men sprinted out of the alleyway, all except for Emmanuel, who remained motionless. He had been close, this time. Closer than he had ever come before. Another day or two and it might have had a different ending. He waited until the whining sirens were close before he turned and left.

  61

  As the power seeped back into the city, sirens wailed and alarms clattered and rang, competing like electric birdsong. Jes sat with Alyn’s head in her lap on the floor of the bookshop. Realizing his phone was working, the bookseller had dashed upstairs to call for an ambulance.

  Elsa appeared at her side. ‘Is he still … ?’

  Jes nodded. ‘You guys need to go back to the station. They’ll need you.’

  ‘What about you?’

  ‘I’m staying here,’ Jes said. ‘I’m not leaving him.’

  Elsa jogged over to Julian, who was standing outside.

  ‘I don’t know if you can hear me,’ Jes said, brushing Alyn’s hair out of his eyes. ‘But we did it. We stopped the Pledge. We stopped Emmanuel. I just –’ She held her breath. ‘I think we were too late to stop the sickness. I’m sorry, Alyn …’

  ‘You weren’t too late,’ Alyn whispered.

  Jes peered down at him. ‘Alyn,’ she said. ‘You’re awake.’

  ‘Reality is healing,’ he whispered. ‘I can feel it. The sickness is going.’ He gave her a weak smile. ‘We weren’t too late.’

  62

  Three days later

  Harlan opened his eyes. Outside his window a branch was moving gently in the wind. He patted his sheet. The cotton felt rough and scratchy beneath his fingertips.

  ‘Harlan,’ said his father. He hurried round to the side of his son’s bed and clutched his hand.

  ‘Dad?’

  ‘Amina!’ he yelled. ‘Amina, come here – he’s awake!’

  Harlan’s mother rushed into the room and both of them threw their arms round him. Then Harlan’s two brothers appeared and ran over to his bed too. Harlan started laughing and soon they all joined in.

  ‘I don’t remember a thing,’ Harlan muttered, brushing his hands through his hair. ‘How long have I been here?’

  ‘Three days. A strange young woman in a sports car dropped you off.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘A psychological episode,’ said his father. ‘That’s what the doctor said. They had no other explanation for it.’

  ‘And don’t think I’ve forgiven you for running away from home,’ Harlan’s mother scolded. ‘You have no idea what you put us through, Harlan.’

  ‘Running away from home …’ Harlan pondered, staring at the beckoning branch outside.

  ‘Yes,’ his father said, his eyes burning furiously. ‘Unless of course there’s something else you want to tell us … ?’

  Harlan shook his head. ‘Nothing else …’

  ‘The young woman said to give this to you,’ said his father, handing Harlan an envelope. ‘I’ve got to call the rest of the family; your aunt and uncles will want to see you.’

  ‘Let’s give the poor boy some privacy to open his letter,’ said his older brother.

  Harlan waited until his family had left, then lifted the envelope and tore it open. Inside was a piece of paper.

  Harlan,

  Guess you’re now a full member of the Guild. Give us a call as soon as you’re feeling up to it.

  Pyra. X

  There was a telephone number jotted below.

  ‘What’s in the letter, Harlan?’ his mother called from the next room.

  Harlan crushed the letter into a ball and tossed it down the side of his bed. He knew there was such a thing as magic; he had seen it, felt it. The world was a stranger place than he had ever realized and that was enough. That was all he would ever need.

  ‘Nothing,’ he replied, trying to hide a smile. ‘Nothing at all.’

  63

  ‘Well, I think it suits you,’ Elsa said, gazing at Julian’s misshapen ear, as the pair walked together th
rough the snowy park.

  Julian frowned at her and touched his ear delicately.

  ‘The worst part is no one will ever believe me when I tell them it was bitten off by a psychopathic billionaire who was trying to kill me.’ He sighed. ‘I’ll just have to lie. Then again, I suppose we all will. This whole thing will have to be our secret, won’t it?’

  He had a point, Elsa thought. Jes had told them about her parents’ reaction when she had returned home; how they hadn’t believed a word of what she’d said; how they’d thought she’d lost her mind. The funny thing was that Jes was the only one who hadn’t come close to doing so.

  Since destroying the prison the sickness had relinquished its grip and before long they were all back to normal. Well, as normal as they could be, anyway. Still, Elsa wasn’t keen to try using the Ability for some time.

  ‘Then again …’ Julian smirked. ‘You could always tell your parents you ran away to join the circus. The world’s smallest clown.’

  ‘I’ve missed you being mean to me, Julian,’ she answered with a satisfied sigh.

  She spotted a couple of teenagers throwing snowballs at each other nearby. She shut her eyes.

  Moments later, one of them raised a snowball but slipped on a patch of ice. The snowball sailed out of her hand and hit Julian in the face.

  Julian gasped, wiping the snow away with his sleeve. He looked at Elsa indignantly, but she gave an innocent smile.

  One last time won’t hurt, she thought.

  A short distance from Julian and Elsa, Jes and Alyn sat in Trafalgar Square together. Pigeons pecked around their feet, while groups of tourists flocked around the fountain, taking photographs.

  ‘When are you going home?’ he asked, turning to her.

  Jes shrugged. ‘I want to go to Ryan’s house. Speak to his mum.’ She removed the watch from her pocket. ‘Give her this. Just like Ryan wanted.’

  ‘So soon? You think that’s a good idea?’