Escape

by Jeff Povey

  But I’m not about to give up. I glance back at New-Billie and seeing her with her phone out gives me an idea. I know my Billie’s mobile phone number off by heart so I whip out the phone the liar and New-Mum gave me and dial.

  It takes a few seconds but New-Billie sits bolt upright when she sees that her phone is ringing. She answers it tentatively, clearly not recognising the number.

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘It’s me,’ I whisper.

  ‘Who’s me?’

  ‘Your best friend,’ I tell her. ‘Can we meet?’

  Billie hesitates. ‘I don’t know who you are,’ she says eventually. ‘And don’t say stupid things like that.’

  ‘Trust me,’ I say. ‘You and me are OK individually. But together we are so much stronger.’

  ‘How did you get this number?’ she asks. Then hangs up.

  But I don’t mind. I’ve made a connection. I’m in her world whether she likes it or not.

  I’M AN EXCELLENT DRIVER

  Non-Ape had made short work of clearing the rest of the hotel away, tossing it all into the swirling Thames.

  He only stopped once to shove handfuls of food that Johnson and I salvaged from a rather damp Fortnum and Mason’s. It’s hopefully the last time we’re going to be in this particular version of earth and I felt we deserved only the finest food and drink it could offer.

  We are now standing in a semi-circle, looking at Evil-GG’s body lying semi-squished at the bottom of it all. He’s been fortunate that he has a super-rubbery and strong physique, and that some of the rubble fell in the right way, creating a mini shelter over his torso. His legs are broken and flattened, but that’s not the end of the world. The Moth could tell him as much.

  Johnson pulls smaller chunks of rubble from Evil-GG, revealing the lifeless teenage boy – whose body now plays host to the dead Carrie.

  ‘We’ve got him,’ Johnson declares. ‘Or is it her? It’s Carrie, but she’s in this GG’s body. Right?’ He looks momentarily confused.

  I know how he feels and hand him a list I’d written while waiting for Non-Ape to toss the remains of an entire hotel into the swirling Thames. ‘Here,’ I say. ‘This will help.’

  1. Evil-GG killed our Carrie. Other-Johnson then swapped them into each other’s bodies.

  2. Evil-Carrie got flattened by yours truly and is beyond saving. (Sorry Evil-Carrie, but I wouldn’t know where to begin when it comes to rescuing you.)

  3. Moth Two is on a train track somewhere, minus his head. Again I’d imagine there’s not much chance of healing him.

  4. Non-Lucas is lying dead in a tunnel on the motorway that leads to my home town. Other-Johnson killed him to save my life.

  5. The Moth – our Moth – was kidnapped by Black Moths created by our Billie. We have no idea where he is. Or where she is. Or even where Other-Johnson is.

  6. Our brilliant, darling GG fell off the side of a train and hasn’t been heard of since.

  7. Rev Two, my doppelganger who loathes me, is back in our hometown with Another-Billie while she tries to heal my dad. After he burned to death. Rev Two must not, at any cost, find out that it’s my dad not hers. She will get very angry if she does.

  8. I will draw pictures to accompany this list.

  Johnson nods. ‘Clear as mud.’ He folds the list and slips it into his back jeans pocket. ‘Can you lift that wall?’ he asks Non-Ape.

  Non-Ape lifts the wall and Johnson drags Evil-GG’s mangled legs free. Non-Ape then hurls the side of wall into the Thames where it lands with a resounding splash.

  As Johnson pulls Evil-GG from the rubble, some papers are revealed underneath him. I can’t believe my eyes. Out of all the collapsed hotels in all the worlds this has to be the most astonishing stroke of luck. These papers, these beautiful, dust-coated and intact papers, are my dad’s notes on interdimensional travel. The Moth had argued what seemed like ages ago that they would be salvageable from the wrecked hotel. That was the reason we were on the train that was attacked by the swarm of Black Moths. We were coming to London for the papers and – miracle of miracles – we’ve actually managed to achieve something positive. It’s only taken countless battles and deaths and mayhem, but finally – and this feels so good – we have got something positive to hang on to.

  Evil-GG’s battered, wiry body is broken and shattered in all kinds of ways. But it doesn’t stop Non-Ape slinging it into the trolley where it lands on top of Carrie’s lifeless body.

  ‘Does he understand that they’re real people?’ Johnson asks me.

  ‘I don’t know if he understands anything,’ I reply as Non-Ape steps back and cracks his great neck after the enormous effort he has put in. He’s already eaten over half of what we found and still claims to be hungry.

  Evil-GG is covered in dust and has a white face and what looks like grey hair. For a second I can see how GG might look if he ever reached old age. But I have to check myself; my GG might not get to age another second if we don’t put the next part of the plan into action and start looking for everyone.

  ‘We need transport,’ I tell the Ape.

  ‘What for?’ he asks.

  ‘To get us to town. Back home.’

  ‘Not going home,’ he says, taking another great chunk out of a roll of expensive salami.

  ‘No home. No way.’ Non-Ape joins him.

  Johnson watches on carefully, wary in case I upset them. ‘But we want to,’ he says. ‘Me and Rev. You’ve got to help us do that right?’

  ‘I’m on it.’ The Ape turns and heads away. Just like that, not another word from him.

  ‘Maybe a bus,’ I call after him. Because we’ll need a bus to transport Non-Ape. ‘He’s way too big for a car.’

  When I said he was way too big for a car, I meant it. I meant every single word of it.

  But the Ape wasn’t listening. He found the first automatic vehicle he came across and screeched up to us a few minutes later. I think it’s a Ferrari, but this one’s yellow rather than red.

  And boy, how we argued.

  ‘That is useless,’ I told him.

  ‘It can do two-hundred miles an hour.’

  ‘It’s useless.’

  ‘It’s fast.’

  ‘It’s useless.’

  ‘There aren’t any other cars,’ the Ape lied. There are cars parked everywhere.

  ‘It’s useless.’ I was on Ape-style repeat and I was going to be on repeat until he gave in and did what I told him.

  ‘Only one I could find.’ He really wanted to drive the Ferrari. It was in his eyes; his face, he reeked of the need for speed.

  ‘It’s London.’ My eyes narrowed with all the quiet ferocity I could summon.

  ‘It’s only got one car in it.’

  ‘Get a bus.’

  ‘Buses are slow. You said we’re in a hurry.’ He ran his hand along the sleek wing of the gorgeous Ferrari. Like it was a thoroughbred horse.

  ‘What about GG?’ he suddenly asked. ‘When are we going to find him?’

  The question blew me away for several long moments. Johnson saw it knock the wind from my sails, but I shook my head at him as he made to intervene.

  ‘We don’t know where he is,’ I told the Ape quietly.

  ‘He’s on the railway,’ he replied.

  ‘We looked for him, remember? He wasn’t there.’

  The Ape faltered, only marginally, but his shoulders definitely dropped as he stared at the ground.

  ‘We’re trying to prioritise,’ I told him gently.

  ‘Pri-what?’ he asked.

  ‘Make a list of things to do first.’

  The Ape weighed up my words, taking an age to process them before bearing his tombstone slabs of teeth in a big grin. ‘We’d better be quick then.’

  ‘Exactly.’

  ‘Lucky I found a Ferrari.’

  ‘It’s not big enough. Find another vehicle.’ And that was that, argument over.

  Mainly because I’d already lost it.

  So now I’m wedged in
the passenger seat, sitting on Johnson’s lap, while the Ape roars through London.

  Sitting on the roof of the Ferrari is Non-Ape. His great thick fingers are curled round the top of the open window as he grips tightly. He keeps yahooing like a cowboy every time the Ape takes a bend at speed. Wedged in his lap are Carrie and Evil-GG. The roof bowed the minute Non-Ape climbed on top of it, but so far it’s holding.

  The Ape claims that the Ferrari is almost automatic and all you have to do is keep your foot on the accelerator while you flick at two paddles that are attached either side of the steering wheel. He spends so much time tapping the paddles that he forgets to steer and when a huge stationary dustbin lorry looms worryingly close I yank the steering wheel.

  The car turns so quickly and savagely that Carrie’s body flies from the car roof and crashes straight through a newsagent’s window.

  ‘Ape!’ Johnson shouts.

  The Ape slams on the brakes and I pitch forward, heading straight for the windscreen until I throw a hand out and manage to stop my momentum. Johnson crashes forward with me though and my hand goes straight through the glass.

  I don’t cut an artery, but I do scrape half the skin off my wrist.

  The Ape’s chest bumps hard against the steering wheel and his eyes water. I’m pretty sure he’s still carrying a broken rib from days ago, but he’ll never admit to it.

  ‘Lost the skinny.’ Non-Ape bangs on the roof of the Ferrari and it bows under the blows. ‘Lost the skinny,’ he repeats as if we didn’t know. So much for his mighty grip.

  The Ape jams the Ferrari into reverse and speeds back towards the newsagent’s where he again slams on the brakes.

  ‘Can’t you drive like a normal person?’ I bark at him, my wrist stinging like crazy now that there’s no skin there.

  The Ape turns to me. ‘We lost skinny.’

  ‘I heard,’ I snap. ‘Because of your rubbish driving.’

  ‘You grabbed the wheel.’

  ‘I had to!’

  The car creaks and rises when Non-Ape leaps off the roof. He barges into the newsagent’s and a few seconds later he drags Carrie’s body out by her ankle, not seeming to care when the back of her head thuds down from the pavement on to the road with a nasty crack.

  Non-Ape climbs back on top of the Ferrari’s roof and again the car sinks down. My bleeding wrist smarts, but I press it into the material of my dress, hoping it will soak up the blood and help it stop. I’ve become a master of improvisation.

  ‘You OK?’ Johnson asks.

  ‘I’ve never ever been more OK.’ My irony is so heavy it comes out like anger.

  Practically since the white light, it seems Johnson has spent half his time patching my wounds. If he does quit school, he should maybe think about studying medicine.

  ‘Can I get you something for that?’ His voice is close to my ear and it sends a delicate shiver through me.

  ‘Maybe later.’ I reach down and pat the side of his thigh as his legs stretch under me.

  I settle back in his lap and can feel his breath on my neck as he whispers, ‘The doctor will see you now.’ Which is just a little bit too knowing. Borderline smarmy even. And I worry that just like the last time he was in Other-Johnson’s body he’s going to start changing into a much more confident and dangerous version of himself.

  I know the name of the road we need to find which will take us north, and while the Ape careers through the empty streets read a street map of London. But every time I try and see what road we’re in he’s already sped past the sign.

  ‘Slow down,’ I tell him.

  ‘Who slows down when they’re in a hurry?’

  The Ape flicks at the paddles, but I don’t know if he truly knows what they do. The Ferrari slows then lurches forward, slows again, misfires, then growls and accelerates, over and over. The roar from the engine that feels like it’s sitting right behind my ears is deafening.

  ‘North,’ I tell him. ‘We want the A1.’

  ‘I’m on it,’ he says taking a bend at an outrageous speed but as he does I see a sign.

  ‘Left,’ I tell him. ‘Go left.’

  ‘Left?’ he asks.

  ‘Not right,’ I tell him.

  ‘It’s one-way,’ he points to another road sign up ahead forbidding all traffic to turn left.

  ‘Then we’d better do as we’re told,’ I say, knowing he won’t be able to resist.

  He revs the engine. And screeches left. Sounding the horn loudly at the nearest traffic camera as we do.

  ‘Photo bomb!’ He yells at it.

  In a car this fast on roads without traffic I think we can easily reach my dad in just over half an hour.

  ‘Rev.’ My dad’s face appears in the wing mirror. I immediately sit bolt upright. The last thing I’d been expecting was to see him. He has done this before, contacting me in a way that comes right out of the blue and is downright spooky. I dig my fingers into Johnson’s thighs and he gives a low yelp.

  ‘Rev?’ he asks.

  I can’t answer because I’m staring too hard at my dad’s face in the wing mirror. Whenever he appears, I still don’t know if it’s a dream or a hallucination or some weird power he possesses. If it is a weird power, then he can’t be my real dad, because I’m perfectly normal and human to a near mind-numbingly degree. Unless he picked up this trick from the worlds he’s been visiting? Or it’s a side effect of the dimension crossing? If he can find me from another world, then I imagine he can find me in a mirror.

  ‘Hurry,’ he says simply. ‘The other Rev knows I’m not her dad.’

  I stare at my dad’s reflection and I can tell that he is also scared.

  ‘I’m coming,’ I tell him.

  ‘What?’ Johnson asks.

  ‘Hide,’ I tell my dad.

  ‘Who are you talking to?’ Johnson asks.

  But my dad’s eyes are locked on to mine and I can’t think of anything but him. ‘Run and hide,’ I urge him. ‘Whatever you do, don’t let her find you.’

  THIS WAS AN EXIT

  It’s lunchtime and I’ve gone to the Tesco that sits on the edge of town.

  After enduring a morning of mind-numbing non-lessons, I snuck out of a side entrance of school and took the steep grassy hill into town. A few kids saw me, but they reacted with the same dull indifference as everyone else I have met in this weird alternate world. But then of course I had to go and see Kyle, an ex-boyfriend in my home world. A small large-nosed boy whom I didn’t think I was good enough for. But seeing him sitting on a bench, quietly staring into space, I see him for what he really is. Just a boy who liked me and then asked me out. Which is more than Johnson ever managed. I almost go over to this Kyle, but that was an old Rev and I think I’ve well and truly moved on.

  I spotted GG again after our music class, but never got close enough to try and speak to him. I also saw Billie sitting at the back of another class and Carrie was staring at her reflection in the mirror of the loos when I walked in there. She was checking the eye that I had apparently blinded with the paper aeroplane during the morning history class.

  ‘Sorry about that,’ I told her.

  ‘I’m blind because of you,’ she growled.

  ‘But you’re not because you’re staring at your reflection.’

  ‘I feel blind,’ she spat again. ‘That’s the difference. I feel like I can’t see.’

  Despite her obvious hostility, I took a chance and tried to make a connection with her. I took out the paper aeroplane with the words YOU’LL LEARN written on it and showed it to her.

  ‘Why would someone write that?’ I asked her.

  Carrie barely gave it a glance. ‘Why wouldn’t they?’

  Which was no answer at all. ‘This school,’ I pressed. ‘It’s odd.’

  Big understatement. In truth, if I hadn’t been to weird and wonderful worlds prior to this, I would have been running screaming for the hills. But I’m more in control now and ready to face whatever comes my way. Oh yeah, Reva Marsalis is a whole
other type of animal these days.

  ‘I wouldn’t know,’ Carrie dabbed her eye with a wet tissue.

  ‘A school where no one teaches anything?’

  ‘You’re new.’ She scowled. ‘What is it? You been home-schooled and your parents get sick of seeing you every day?’

  ‘No . . . ’

  ‘I’ll take that as a yes.’

  ‘I’ve just got here,’ I told her.

  New-Carrie laughed at this. Snorted so hard she needed to wipe her nose afterwards. ‘You should’ve stayed at home, you’re weird.’

  ‘I mean it. I am new. Not just to this school, but to this world as well.’

  And with that she grabbed her bag and left.

  That conversation was the main reason that made me sneak out of school. Thirteen and a half days of this world was more than enough for me. I snuck down the corridors, mainly moving in the opposite direction to everyone else, until I found a fire exit. The sign on the door said Only To Be Used In An Emergency so I burst through it without a moment’s hesitation. This definitely constituted an emergency.

  The morning has lasted for what feels like an eternity. The only real distraction, reaching out to Billie. So far there hasn’t been any sign of an Ape but I can feel his presence. We’re bonded now, and even if it isn’t the real him I’m pretty sure our molecules can sense each other. Not seeing him is almost a relief though. I don’t think I can face meeting this version of the Ape because thinking about him makes my stomach churn. He’s gone. My Ape is no more.

  It takes me eight and a half minutes to reach the automatic doors of Tesco.

  The last time I was in the equivalent shop it was empty and there was a near dead burned man slithering along the floor. The man turned out to be my dad.

  But at this moment I’m interested in where he dragged himself from. Specifically the overheated lorry he emerged from. Even though my dad claims that the world he came from was burning to death, I want to find out for myself. The lorry had to be some kind of portal to the empty world so logic dictates that there could be another portal in this world. I’m counting on my theory that all of the earths keep copying each other, like a stone thrown into a pond, and the resultant ripple effect flows throughout the multiverse. If there’s one portal in the cabin of a lorry parked behind a supermarket, then there’s going to be at least a few more of them.