by Chris Ward
Carl nodded. ‘Yeah, all the time. My father was a pretty tough man to live with, but somehow she managed it. Even when he was being a bully she was kind to me. She always loved me. Now, although I know my father’s dead, I don’t know what’s happened to my mother. That cyborg woman might have killed her, or she might still be alive. I want to go back, but I know that right now I can’t.’
Owen looked sad. ‘I’m sure she’s fine,’ he said.
‘Yeah, I hope so. I have to just keep believing it. It gives me something to hold on to. What about you? Is your mother back in London?’
Owen shook his head. He pouted his lips. ‘My mother’s been dead since I was a little kid, and my father’s been gone as long as I can remember. I don’t know what happened to him, but he took off somewhere and never came back. Even though I hate him for leaving us, I still hope that he found a decent life somewhere. Perhaps without the stress of dealing with Paul and me, life’s a bit easier and he’s happy.’
‘I hope so.’
‘A large part of me thinks he’s dead, though,’ Owen said. ‘People don’t get happy endings in this country anymore.’
‘We might,’ Carl said. ‘If we escape from the Huntsmen, Dreggo and the DCA and get over to France, things might be different. We might get a bath, and we might even get a baguette.’
Owen smiled. ‘Yeah, I hope so. But whatever happens, I don’t think it’ll be a happy ending for any of us. Simon’s dead, your dad’s dead, Jess’s parents are dead. Tons of people have been killed. Even if we get to France, we’re cut, Carl. How old are you? I’m twelve. Twelve. And I’ve killed men. Every time I close my eyes for the rest of my life, I’m going to see the faces of those men I killed. Nothing can ever gloss over that, not baths, not baguettes, nothing.’ He shrugged. ‘It’s fucked. I just wanted to go to school, study about stuff then come home, play video games and be a pain in the ass for Paul.’
‘I guess we just do our best, and see what happens,’ Carl said.
‘Yeah, that’s about right.’
#
Paul, walking in front of Owen and Carl, felt a lump in his throat as he listened to his brother speak. As Owen’s older brother he could only blame himself that Owen was caught in this mess with them, although he preferred Owen with him rather than back in London alone. It especially hurt to hear Owen talk about his father, and Paul knew that the time was coming when he would have to tell his brother the truth. Owen had seen enough of life, he could handle the truth now, Paul thought.
In front of him Jess and Marta walked in silence, though Marta was holding Jess’s hand tightly in hers. They looked like two very dirty primary school children on a class outing. Paul knew that of all of them Jess was suffering the most, but he hoped that the girl would find the strength in herself that Simon had loved so much and pull through her grief. Marta was being strong for her, Marta who was always strong for everyone. Marta too had no family left besides the Tube Riders, yet she was always so strong, always willing to fight when the others wanted to drop, always pushing herself on. He hoped she wasn’t about to crack under the pressure, because he felt that if Marta cracked, they would all fall apart. Switch’s absence made it worse for her. Switch and Marta had always been close; Switch sharing a bond with her that he wouldn’t allow with other people.
Paul always watched people carefully. It was a useful skill to have, the ability, almost, to read what someone was thinking. He was also adept at spotting conflict in someone’s eyes, and he had seen a lot of it in Marta’s. He had noticed the way she looked at Ishael, and had recognised the pure delight she’d felt to see him alive. Paul also noticed the way she looked at Switch, almost with regret. But more than anything, he noticed the way she looked down, the sag in her jaw, the way her eyes hung at her feet when she thought no one was watching her. Heavy, he knew, her thoughts were, and despondency hung around her heart like a big black bell. Here she was feeling a tentative love for someone, but in her heart she felt undeserving of it, felt that she had no right even thinking of it while people around her suffered and died.
He wanted to tell her it was all right, that she was allowed to feel something other than sorrow, that even amidst the ashes of their lives she was allowed to let a seed grow. He wanted to tell her, before something happened to him, before it was too late.
But again, as he walked along behind Marta and Jess, watching the way they leaned close like two long lost sisters finding each other for the first time, their hands and now arms intertwined, he could only keep his silence. Deep inside, he wondered if perhaps Marta’s holding in of her emotions was the right thing. After all, they were a long way from home, still a long way from their destination, and a group of government-built killing machines were tracking them.
#
Ishael took the lead from Reeder as they reached the top of the hill. As the first rooftops of the town came into sight, he angled off the road on to the overgrown grass verge to give them a little more cover. Overhead, clouds had obscured the sun as it dipped towards the horizon, and a cold wind had risen. Darkness would come in an hour or so, and he was worried about what would happen then. Did these Mistakes become more active at night?
He jumped as his foot landed on something soft, and he looked down to see the decayed remains of a human lying in the grass at his feet. Hollow, bird-pecked eye holes stared up at him, a toothless black maw yawned wide. He took a few steps backwards in shock, but before he could say anything, one of the girls had seen it and let out a little cry of horror.
‘Quiet!’ Reeder hissed.
Up ahead of them, Ishael saw something detach itself from the hedgerow and take a few steps towards them.
‘Crouch down,’ he said, waving a hand at the ground. ‘Keep still and stay quiet!’
Marta inched up alongside him. ‘Did it see us?’ she asked, meaning the other Mistake, the one they could see lurching across the road thirty feet ahead of them.
‘Maybe.’
‘This is unfortunate,’ Reeder whispered. ‘We haven’t got time to get trapped here.’
The others had bunched up into a group. ‘Want me to create a distraction?’ Owen asked. ‘I’ll lead it up the road, then double back through the fields.’
‘No you damn well won’t,’ Paul said.
‘Just wait,’ Ishael told them. ‘Stay quiet, and . . . wait.’
The seconds dragged past like a heavy chain. The Mistake took a few slow steps across the road, turned towards them once, turned away, and finally slumped down on to its knees. It grunted once and went still.
‘Okay, move on,’ Ishael said. ‘Be careful not to disturb it.’
Not for the first time Ishael wished Switch was still with them. The odd little man had proved himself an asset in any fight.
They moved on down towards the town. They passed the slumped Mistake, but it neither moved nor seemed to notice their presence.
Ishael glanced back as they passed, and saw the others do the same. His heart was hammering in his chest, the blood making his wounds throb. The thought of another mob of those monsters on their trail was enough to make his hands shake.
Then a light flicked on ahead of them.
‘Well, would you take a look at that,’ Reeder said, putting a hand on Ishael’s shoulder and making the other man jump.
‘John, where’s it coming from?’ Marta said.
‘It’s coming from one of the houses,’ Reeder told her.
‘But . . . I thought this town was abandoned.’
‘Yes,’ Reeder replied. ‘So did we. It looks like we were wrong.’
‘And it looks like they have electricity too,’ Ishael said. ‘Those lights aren’t flickering like flames or gas burners would.’
Ishael led them on towards the town. Evening was beginning to draw in and as the shadows lengthened they had more cover than before. Even so, they kept to the side of the road just in case they came across any more wandering Mistakes.
The closest houses were just a few feet
away. A row of bungalows lined a meandering road into the centre of the small town. Some of the gardens were overgrown; some of the windows were smashed. Other houses, though, looked well kept, lights pressing against curtains giving the impression that the town was just like any other, closed down for the night after a busy working day, its inhabitants safe behind their doors and in front of their televisions.
‘Who the hell lives here?’ Paul wondered.
A door opened just a few doors down.
‘Back against that wall!’ Ishael hissed, and they ducked down, just as two children danced out into the street.
‘Tom! Brete! Come back inside!’ someone shouted, a woman’s voice, tinged with a hint of desperation. ‘How many times have I told you?’
The children laughed and joked, pushing each other. They looked to be about six years old. As a shadow fell over them from the doorway, the boy disengaged from the tussle and dashed back into the house. The other, the girl, stood up and brushed herself down. She peered into the dark, eyes searching. Suddenly her arm lifted, a finger picking them out.
‘Mother, there are some Wildmen over there, sitting in the dark. I count seven but there could be more. What are they doing?’
‘Oh, fuck,’ Ishael said.
‘Get in the house now!’ the woman hissed at the little girl.
Owen stood up. ‘Wait! We’re not Mistakes! We’re just normal people! Help us!’
Paul grabbed his shoulder, but it was too late. A howl went up from somewhere in the forest behind them. A moment later a hideous shrieking sound answered it.
The woman had come out into the road. ‘Who are you?’ she shouted. ‘If you’re spies, then the Wildmen are coming now.’
‘Let me go,’ Marta said, standing up. She jogged forward into the road.
#
Marta stepped out into the dim glow emitted from the open door and faced the woman and the girl in the street.
‘We need help,’ she said. ‘We have to get to Lizard Point, if you know where that is. Please, we’re not Mistakes, and we’re not spies. But bad people are following us.’
‘Whoever you are, it’s already too late,’ the woman said. With a grin almost of resignation, she looked over her shoulder. Cupping hands around her mouth, she hollered, ‘Redman!’
She was answered by a distant roar. The woman looked back at Marta. Marta could see now that she was about thirty-five, and looked normal apart from something that was wrong with her arms. They were longer than they should be, stretching as far as her knees. Her fingers stretched even further, spindly like spiders’ legs.
Marta stepped forward. ‘Please help us!’
‘Bring your people out into the light,’ the woman said. Turning to the little girl, she said, ‘Get inside. Fetch your father.’
A man already stood in the doorway. He looked normal, as far as Marta could tell. ‘Who are these people?’ he asked.
‘They say they’re not Wildmen, and they’re not spies. Which begs the question, why are they here?’
‘We have to get to Lizard Point,’ Marta shouted.
The others had grouped up behind her. Carl and Ishael trained their guns on the darkness behind them. Jess had a knife in each hand. Paul and Reeder hovered at her shoulder.
‘Please!’ Marta shouted again. ‘We’re on the run from the government!’
‘Forget these people,’ Paul said, putting a hand on her shoulder. ‘We need to get out of sight.’
Others had appeared further down the street. Doors opening, people stepping out to see what was happening. One or two started running towards them.
‘Oh my God, what in Heaven’s name is that?’ Reeder said, and for the first time since they had met him Marta heard real fear in his voice, and she understood why.
Something huge and dark was lopping down the street, head hung low, arms almost scrapping the ground. It looked like a human hunched over, but it was the biggest human Marta had ever seen. Even with its head slung forward it towered over the people that it passed.
‘Who is after you?’ the woman demanded.
Marta spread her arms, and for a moment the answer seemed hysterical enough to make her smile. ‘Everyone!’
The man looked at the woman and nodded. He moved past them down the road, ducking into the hedge a few feet beyond them.
‘What’s he –’ Paul began, just as a loud siren wailed and a chain of spotlights flicked on in a ring extending out into the darkness around the houses. The road out of the town lit up, and there, rushing towards them, they saw a motley group of Mistakes.
‘Aim for the legs!’ Ishael shouted.
‘No!’ the woman cried. ‘Gunfire makes them worse! Take your people and follow Jin!’
Jin had to be the man. Appearing from the trees again, he waved at them to follow him back up the street, towards the approaching giant. Owen, Paul and Reeder didn’t hesitate; Carl and Ishael looked around but seemed reluctant to move from their positions. Jess was standing stock still, eyes on their attackers, knives gripped tight.
Then something burst from the trees just a few feet away, leapt over a garden fence and dashed up the road towards them. Carl, closest to it, screamed in terror and spun towards it. His gun went off, and the top of the Mistake’s head exploded, jerking it around. It gave a guttural, metallic howl, then tumbled backwards to the ground, where it twitched and writhed for a few seconds before falling still.
‘No!’ the woman screamed.
A huge cacophony rose from the forest.
‘I told you about guns, you idiots!’
Carl’s mouth fell open. He looked ashamed that his fear had overcome him, endangering them all. Marta felt awful for him, but understood. After the terrible things they had witnessed over the last couple of days, they were all starting to lose control.
‘Go!’ the woman screamed again.
Marta turned, just as the giant man reached them. He was massive, maybe twelve feet tall, his body a thick mass of muscle, his chest covered only by a thin waistcoat which revealed the enormous shoulders that hung on to overlong, muscular arms. His face was a mass of scars, his mouth lopsided, one eye lower than the other. He roared as he rushed at them, arms swinging like scythes.
‘Redman, the Wildmen are coming!’ the woman shouted.
The giant barely seemed to notice her, but his course veered slightly right and he passed by where the Tube Riders crouched, rushing headlong at the phalanx of monsters that came at them down the street. In his wake others came too, some recognizably human, others that resembled Huntsmen, still others who could be one or more different creatures combined, not all of them human.
Jin said, ‘Hurry! We’ll be swamped in minutes. There are far more of them than us.’ He looked back at the woman. ‘Lucy, I’ll take the kids. Be safe.’
She reached up and touched his face. ‘You too. I’ll be there soon.’
He looked at her a moment, then turned and headed up the street, the Tube Riders following him, while around them others moved in the direction of the battle. Around them they could hear more cries from the wilderness beyond the ring of spotlights.
A screaming Mistake who looked mostly human leapt into view from between two houses, dashing into the road in front of them. Jin leapt straight at him, what looked like knives in his hands. The man turned on him, and Jin buried the knives into his chest. The Mistake screamed and collapsed to the ground. Jin barely pushed him off before he started running again. Where knives had been, his hands were human again.
‘This way,’ he shouted back, taking a street heading left. Marta glanced back once before she followed, and saw the Redman in the midst of the battle, huge arms flailing, Mistakes flying through the air like thrown toys. She shivered at the sight of it, the power in the creature, and dreaded what else they might find here.
‘Come on,’ Ishael shouted, tugging at her arm. She realised she’d been lingering back; the others were all far ahead now.
As the Redman sent a Mistake sailing i
nto a nearby garden, she shook her head in disbelief, and let Ishael lead her onwards.
They passed through a town square. People dashed back and forth, some involved in little skirmishes, others running away. In the midst of battle it was difficult tell who were Wildmen and who were not.
‘In there!’ Jin shouted, pointing at a two-floored building ahead of them. Double doors were open, flanked by two men who were ushering others inside. The windows on the lower level were bricked over, while the higher level windows were barred. She saw from the faded sign that it was an old police station.
An explosion came from nearby, followed by a howl. Jin shouted something back that she didn’t hear, just as a group of Mistakes raced into the square through an alleyway. Spears sailed through the air and three of them went down, only for them to climb back up off the floor and move on. One of the children pulled what looked like a pipe out of his clothing, turned and raised it to his mouth. Marta heard a whistling noise, then the nearest Mistake screamed and dropped to the floor, clutching at its eye. The child dashed after Jin.
Mistakes were all around them now. In front of Marta, Jess slashed the neck of one who reached for her, while Carl punched another in the face as Ishael grabbed it and hauled it back. They were just a few yards from the doorway. A hand fell on her shoulder and she swung her clawboard up and around, striking something birdlike in the face. It fell away, screaming.
Up ahead of her Carl and Owen had reached the door, Ishael close behind. Paul pushed Jess away from a group of Mistakes grappling each other and dragged her towards the door. Marta was just behind them when she remembered Reeder.
She looked behind her.
John Reeder lay on the ground, something that looked half amphibian standing over him. His face was covered with blood.
‘No –’ She took a couple of steps towards him, but a strong arm closed around her waist and hauled her back.
‘There’s nothing you can do,’ Jin said, dragging her towards the door.
‘John!’ she screamed, as the amphibian-like creature lifted a metal spear and thrust it into Reeder’s chest. The man’s face twisted with pain as his head slumped back. His eyes fell on her for a second and his mouth shaped the word, go.
