‘That must be Tsonga’s brother and his wife,’ Ketty whispered.
‘And the little girl must be Tsonga’s daughter, Victoria,’ I said.
‘Sssh,’ Dylan hissed. ‘Listen.’
Djounsou was talking again, about loyalty and disobedience.
‘These people have betrayed me,’ he said. ‘Betrayed all of us. Betrayed our family.’
No. That’s not right. An angry murmur ran through the crowd, yet no one called out.
‘They’re scared,’ Ketty whispered in my ear. ‘There are too many soldiers for us to fight against.’
I nodded, my heart sinking. Too many soldiers for Nico to disable alone. Too many potential threats for Dylan to protect herself from. Too many minds for me to hold all at once.
‘Bring me the weapons,’ Djounsou ordered.
As if they’d been waiting for the cue, three soldiers appeared from inside the church. Each one carried a large crate overflowing with guns and ammunition. A fourth soldier pointed his gun at the crowd, which parted, clearing a path to Djounsou’s jeep. The soldiers started loading the weapons into the back.
Djounsou drew himself up, waiting until the angry muttering in the crowd subsided. Then he took his gun and held it at Tsonga’s brother’s head.
‘These rebels must be punished.’ He paused. ‘Take them inside the church and tie them up.’
Tsonga glanced at his brother – a terrible look of loyalty and pain. Then the soldiers shoved the brother, his wife and the other two rebels through the church door. Djounsou, Tsonga and little Victoria were left outside.
Ketty gripped my arm. ‘Maybe he won’t hurt Tsonga’s daughter?’
I shook my head. What was Djounsou playing at? The little girl was shaking now, standing at the top of the steps. Her lips trembled as she looked over at her father. He smiled encouragingly, but even from where we were standing you could see the fear in his eyes.
‘We live in hard times,’ Djounsou said, ‘and no father wants to see his children suffer. But wicked actions must be punished. My soldiers have children too. I am a good father.’ He pointed at Tsonga. ‘This man is not. He has sacrificed his own daughter to a false ideal.’ Djounsou’s gaze swept across the crowd – angry, imperious, demanding. I shrank back into the shadows.
My mind spun. I couldn’t see how we could save anyone. The odds were just too heavily stacked against us.
‘And so the sins of the father are visited upon the sons,’ Djounsou said slowly. ‘Or, in this case, the daughter.’ He turned to another soldier. ‘Take her inside the church too. Tie her to the cross.’
‘No, please, no.’ Tsonga pleaded.
‘Daddy!’
My guts clenched as little Victoria was dragged away.
Another signal from Djounsou and one of the soldiers from the jeep appeared with a metal can. He disappeared inside the church. A few moments later he was back, walking backwards out of the church, splashing the liquid from the can in front of him. He finished at the church door and turned, swinging the empty can so that the final few drops spattered across the crowd.
I caught the smell immediately. Petrol.
‘He’s going to set fire to the church,’ Nico breathed.
I caught Ketty’s eye. This was her vision.
‘He’s going to burn all the rebels to death.’ Dylan sucked in her breath. ‘Even that little girl. That’s totally evil.’
I couldn’t believe what Djounsou was doing. And yet, it made sense. By killing Victoria and the others, Djounsou would personally punish Tsonga and send a message to Mahore and beyond not to mess with him.
‘We can’t let him do this,’ I said, as Djounsou produced a lighter from his pocket.
‘What can we do?’ Ketty wailed. ‘I mean, Nico could teleport that lighter out of Djounsou’s fingers . . .’
‘. . . but there’ll always be another lighter . . .’ Dylan finished, grimly.
The crowd, whose voices had risen again at the sight and smell of the petrol, quietened as Djounsou held the lighter right in Tsonga’s face.
‘This is your punishment for fighting me,’ Djounsou said, calmly. ‘You will watch your daughter die – before I kill you.’
‘NOOO!’ Tsonga’s roar brought the crowd to life. They jeered, surging forwards, as he kicked and struggled against the soldiers holding him.
I gripped the wall in front of me more tightly. Maybe the crowd could stop Djounsou.
But Djounsou simply signalled one of his soldiers to fire. The gunshot blasted into the air and a shocked silence fell again. Tsonga stood, defeated, his chest heaving as Djounsou flicked the lighter on and tossed the flame behind him, into the petrol that streaked around the church door.
Fire rose up immediately, licking at the door.
‘Oh my God,’ Ketty moaned beside me.
The crowd fell into a shocked silence. My heart seemed to stop beating.
Think of something. I had to get inside the church. Somehow I had rescue Victoria and the others. But how?
‘What do we do?’ Nico’s forehead was furrowed with a deep frown. ‘Telekinesis won’t work against a fire.’
‘No,’ I said, ‘but it will work against locked doors. Come with me. If you can get me through that side door we saw, I can try and rescue the people inside.’
‘You can’t do that,’ Nico said, horrified.
‘Just get me inside.’ I raced off. As I ran I glanced at Djounsou and his men up on the church steps. They were facing the blazing door Djounsou had just set alight, not looking into the hushed crowd. I kept my head down anyway, keeping close to the far wall as I ran.
As I reached the side of the church, the others caught up with me.
‘You can’t go in there, Ed,’ Ketty panted. ‘It’s too dangerous.’
‘She’s right, the fire’s too big,’ Dylan added. ‘And even if I could get past the flames, none of us would survive the smoke. The people inside have only got a couple of minutes as it is.’
I turned to Nico. ‘Just open the door for me.’
‘No,’ he insisted. ‘It’d be suicide.’
I stared at him. Somewhere in my head I knew he was trying to help me, but right then all I could feel was fury. ‘Then I’m going in the front,’ I snapped.
I turned away.
‘You can’t,’ Ketty shrieked. She grabbed my arm. ‘Nico, stop him.’
‘Ed, man, please.’
‘You can’t just stroll over and walk in through that main door,’ Dylan added. ‘If Djounsou doesn’t kill you, the fire will.’
I turned back, facing the three of them. I took in the tension on their faces. The fear. And suddenly my anger at them vanished. They just didn’t understand.
To Nico, Dylan and Ketty, the death of the rebels – and Luz – was a terrible tragedy that didn’t, in the end, have anything to do with them. Just as Geri and the government thought that it didn’t have anything to do with them, either.
It wasn’t like that for me.
I have to go,’ I said, simply. ‘I promised Luz I’d help her. And I got everything wrong and she died. Then I promised Tsonga I’d help save his daughter. I have to try.’
‘But you might die,’ Ketty said.
I shrugged. ‘I can’t live with myself if I don’t at least try. Not after I promised to help . . .’
The others all stared at me, then Nico spoke.
‘You’ve got two minutes to get in and out, then I’m coming in after you and if that happens I’ll die too, so you’ll be killing me as well, okay?’
‘Fine,’ I said. ‘Just open the door.’
‘I already did.’
I raced down the side of the church. As I ran I tore a strip off my shirt and wound it quickly round my mouth. I reached the side door and hurled myself at the handle.
Inside the church I stood for a second, letting my eyes get used to the darkness. I was in a small room of some kind. I could smell smoke in the distance. A grey wisp curled under the door in front of me.
I pushed it open.
Oh God.
Smoke rose up from a pathway of flames that led from the main door, all the way down the aisle, to the wooden altar where Tsonga’s brother and the other adults were tied to the legs. One of the men was slumped, unconscious, the others were shouting for help.
None of them noticed me. My stomach twisted as I looked round for Victoria. There. Almost hidden from view behind the altar, she was sitting down, tied with rope to the gold cross that towered up in front of the stained glass windows at the far end of the church.
She was coughing from the smoke – and crying. A shaft of sunlight fell across her black hair, lighting the wispy curls at the front.
My heart beat fast. The smoke was already almost suffocating. There was no way I was going to be able to save all five of them. My stomach cramped with fear. I took a huge breath, ready to run to the altar.
And then a hand grabbed my arm. I spun round, ready to fight.
It was Nico. Dylan and Ketty stood on either side of him looking grimly determined. No. They weren’t going to stop me. Didn’t they understand I had to do this? I ripped the scrap of cloth off my mouth.
‘I told you I—’
‘Don’t freak out, Mr Ethics,’ Dylan snarled.
‘We do this together,’ Nico said firmly.
‘Or not at all,’ Ketty added.
I blinked, huge waves of emotion flooding through me. Shock at their decision, mixed with honour at their loyalty and terror that now more lives were at stake.
I took another deep breath, as fresh hope surged through me. Maybe now there was a chance to save everybody.
‘Come on, then,’ I said. ‘Let’s go.’
26: Fire
We raced down the side aisle. Victoria’s screams filled my head. I made straight for her, trying to ignore the smoke that filled my lungs, burning my chest. Coughing, I reached the little girl and slid to my knees, feeling for the knots that tied her to the cross.
I couldn’t get a hold of the rope properly. Victoria was thrashing about, completely hysterical, eyes tight shut, kicking out with her legs. I glanced over my shoulder. I needed Nico’s help with the knots, but he was on the other side of the altar, busy telekinetically untying the adults’ ropes.
‘Nico!’ I called, choking in the foul air.
‘In a sec,’ he yelled, not looking round. Dylan was beside him, stamping her hands and feet at the flames threatening the rebels.
‘It’s okay, Victoria, I’m going to help you,’ I shouted, feeling my own panic rising.
‘Daaa-deee!’ she cried.
Ketty touched my shoulder. ‘I’ll deal with the rope,’ she said. ‘You calm her down.’
I nodded. ‘Victoria, look at me.’
The little girl didn’t even hear me. I grabbed her chin and forced her round. Her eyes shot open, wild and staring.
Whoosh. I’d never felt such naked terror before. Victoria’s mind was a chaos of panic – can’t breathe, can’t breathe, was the only coherent thought in her head.
Listen to me, Victoria. We’re going to help you. Hold still so we can get your ropes off. Then we’ll take you to Daddy.
I could feel Victoria’s mind latch onto mine. She didn’t question the fact that I was inside her head, or even who I was.
Keep still, I urged again.
Victoria stopped struggling. I broke the connection. Ketty was fumbling with the knot that tied Victoria to the cross. She was coughing badly. I glanced round. Nico was still with the adults. Two of the men were up now and racing down the side aisle, dragging Tsonga’s sister-in-law between them. She was clearly unconscious, her head slumped awkwardly to one side.
Tsonga’s brother lay on the ground. Nico stood over him. He looked at Dylan and shook his head. Dylan turned away, bent over, coughing like her lungs would explode.
My heart sank. Tsonga’s brother was dead. This little girl at my feet was all Tsonga had left. I had to rescue her.
‘Nico,’ I yelled.
He turned and held his hand up. With a twist the rope tying Victoria to the cross sprang free. On the other side of the altar table, Dylan slid to the ground. I jumped to my feet.
‘Dylan!’ I yelled.
She was out cold. Nico hauled her up with a mix of telekinesis and brute strength. He slung her over his shoulder and yelled at Ketty.
‘Bring the little girl,’ Nico shouted. ‘Now! Let’s go.’
He sped off, Dylan bumping against his back. I turned back to Ketty and Victoria.
‘Come on,’ I yelled.
Ketty looked past me to the door. She grabbed my arm. ‘Ed!’
I spun round, just in time to see Nico and Dylan disappearing behind a wall of flame. For a second I couldn’t make sense of what I was looking at, then I realised. The fire had brought down the archway that led out to the side door of the church. Nico and Dylan had just got through, before the collapse.
And now the fire was too big for us to pass. There was no way out.
‘Oh, God, oh my God.’ Ketty was shouting and choking and crying all at once.
I glanced round, my heart pounding. The side door and the main door were consumed with flames. What other exit could there be? Victoria’s hand crept into mine. She was doubled over, coughing. I reckoned we had about twenty seconds left of the two minutes Dylan had predicted we would last.
I looked at Ketty. Tears were streaming down her face. She met my gaze.
Whoosh.
I’m so sorry, Ketty. So sorry . . .
This can’t be it, she thought-spoke.
I’m so sorry. I didn’t know what else to say. Beside me, I felt Victoria clutch at my shirt, burying her mouth against the cloth to try and keep out the smoke. I was coughing like my lungs were turning inside out. My head felt light. It was impossible to think. Ketty was gabbling thought-speech inside my head. I could barely hear her for the thunder of my own thoughts, my own fear.
It was over. The fire had got us.
And then Ketty’s words broke through. Ed, listen, I mean it, this can’t be it. In my vision I saw the side of the church on fire, properly on fire with flames and everything.
So?
Well, I had to be outside to see that, didn’t I? Which means I’m going to make it outside, which means you are too.
I broke the connection, filled with fresh hope. If we couldn’t go forwards, maybe there was a way out behind us.
Yes. Behind the altar, to the right, was a small wooden door.
I turned, dragging Victoria with me. Ketty ran alongside, her hand over her mouth.
We tore through the door into some sort of wood-panelled office. A table stood against one wall. Above it was a shelf covered in bowls and boxes. Robes hung from a row of pegs on the wall. I looked desperately round.
‘Here.’ Ketty raced across the room to a tiny wooden door set into the panelling. She flung it open. It led straight onto a narrow flight of stairs.
‘Victoria.’ I bent down to her level. She’d stopped coughing quite so furiously now and was staring at me with huge brown eyes.
‘Where do those stairs go?’
‘Up.’ She frowned. ‘Are you an angel?’ she said.
I blinked. ‘Er . . . no,’ I said.
‘Come on.’ Ketty raced up the stairs.
Coughing, I followed, clutching Victoria’s hand.
The stairs were narrow and twisty, but the air was a little clearer here. I took a breath, clearing my head a little, as we reached the top of the stairs.
‘Where now?’ Ketty looked round, frantically searching for another door.
‘Over there.’
I followed Victoria’s pointing finger to a small door set into the far wall. I reached up and slid back the bolts, then pushed Victoria through.
‘Where does this lead?’ Ketty asked.
‘To the bells,’ Victoria said.
Of course . . . a bell tower. Maybe there’d be a way out through here onto the roof. I helped Ketty scramble through afte
r Victoria, then hauled myself up. As I pulled myself through the opening, I glanced back down the twisty little staircase. Smoke was already pouring up after us. A finger of flame curled round the doorway.
God, how could it spread that fast?
I wriggled inside the bell tower, then slammed the door shut behind me. The tower was tall, but narrow. Three bells hung high above our heads from the centre of the peaked ceiling. Their ropes dangled in the small space. Ketty and Victoria were crouched opposite me, beside an empty crate. Victoria was sobbing for her dad, Ketty stroking her hair.
I looked round, my heart sinking. There was no door . . . no window . . . no way out. Wait, there must be. There was enough light in the room to see the others quite clearly – where was it coming from? I turned round and stood up. There, above my head, was a tiny, shuttered window. Sunshine filtered through its slats, casting a series of shadowy stripes across the wooden floor. A fly buzzed past my head. For a second I felt the dampness of my shirt against my back and the soreness of my eyes from the smoke. I stood on tiptoe, opened the window and flung the shutters wide. Light flooded the room.
‘YES!’ Ketty yelled. ‘Come on!’
Victoria rubbed her eyes as I grabbed the crate beside them, turned it over and stood on it. From here I could see out through the window. Flames from the other end of the church were already licking towards us, twisting up into the bright blue sky above. Just below the window was a narrow ledge. Barely enough room for one of us to balance on. And then how did we get down? We were at the very top of the church here. Any attempt to jump would kill us.
The cries of the people at the front of the church wafted up towards me but I could only see the street at the side of the church from here. It was deserted – everyone must still be at the front.
‘Can we get down from here?’ Ketty asked from inside the bell tower.
‘Sure,’ I said. Please, God, let that be true.
‘Can you see the others?’ she asked.
I searched for a flash of Dylan’s red hair. There was no sign of her, and yet she and Nico must be down there somewhere, mustn’t they?
The Rescue Page 18
