Caleb sighed, his body relaxing into the floor.
Steph leaned back and Amanda held her, letting the girl get her breath back. ‘I think I just killed a deer or something.’
‘Could have been worse.’
‘I’m sorry.’
‘We’ll get it next time.’
‘What the fuck was that?’ asked Skeebs.
‘I’m sorry,’ said Steph again. ‘I lost control. I started the enchantment but then I couldn’t stop it, I was having to pull energy from everywhere so it wouldn’t take mine.’
‘You almost killed him,’ Skeebs pointed back to Caleb.
‘I’m alright,’ the man rumbled. He started to push himself into a sitting position, gave up and settled for rolling onto his back. ‘Jesus Christ.’
‘Is the knife done now?’ asked Amanda.
‘No. I had to dump all the power. I think I just made a deer explode.’
‘Wonder what the drivers made of that.’
Steph breathed a laugh. ‘Yeah.’ Her health was returning, fullness and colour back in her cheeks.
‘We’ll do better next time. Caleb you OK?’
‘Don’t think I’ll want to do that again,’ said the big man, the strength in his voice returning.
‘Sorry,’ said Steph.
‘S’alright.’
Amanda got to her feet, shifting out from under Steph’s weight.
Progress. She supposed that’s what they’d made. Though clearly there was plenty still to go.
She began to gather the books, which had spread out across the floor with every jerk of the train. Amanda had read what was left of them until numbers and sigils had swam in her vision. She didn’t know much about books, but she knew self-involved wank when she saw it. These books were written by people exactly like Bridget, obsessed with their own opinion and so far up their own arses that when they spoke they cared more about eyes being on them than actually being understood. No wonder the girl was having a hard time understanding them.
The words were crammed together on the page, the diagrams blurry. Squinting at them, the light swinging overhead, it had all come together into one bright throb behind the eyes.
But they were making progress, the girl a bit more confident now she had someone looking over her shoulder. Amanda was better at reading between the lines, reading the writer, filling in blanks or intentions. They’d been confident enough to try the blessing, even if it had resulted in a complete clusterfuck.
The girl was sitting, one leg still crossed, like she’d planned to stand and forgot halfway through. She had one hand to her head and Amanda could see the realisation that she’d almost killed herself begin to filter in.
Skeebs was sitting back against the wall, blinking up at the lantern. Caleb was chucking back water, the ordeal of having his life force tugged at, making him thirsty.
For this moment, and perhaps this moment only, they were a team again. If she was to have their help she would need to take advantage of this brief comradery now.
‘Right,’ Amanda clapped her hands as if to break the feeling of defeat. The girl jerked her head, blinking owlishly. ‘Come on,’ Amanda offered her a hand to get her to her feet, ‘we’re done for now.’
They were all looking at her – Caleb and Skeebs surfacing from their own dark thoughts.
‘What about the work?’ asked Steph, her eyes still bloodshot. ‘The knife is still…’
‘Not going to do better right now. We’re too knackered. Time to freshen up a bit. Right?’ She looked around.
Skeebs sniffed, returning to gaze at his knees. Caleb’s face was stone. Steph just looked at her like she’d sprouted an extra head.
‘Come on.’ Amanda took one of the boxes, emptied since the heat had warped it full of strange ripples, and set it at the table, an impromptu third chair. She took a second for herself and perched on it. ‘We really going to spend the rest of our lives ignoring each other? How about a game of poker? I’ve got my spare set of cards.’
Crossing the room, she picked them out from her sleeping bag, held them up for the pair to see.
Neither moved.
‘Jesus lads, come on. We’re working to get this done, least you could do is help us relax.’
‘…Lied to us,’ muttered Skeebs, almost to himself, heels of his palm massaging between his eyes.
‘And is that better or worse than trying to kill me? I didn’t tell you about the deal because I’m going to fix that, ok? Doesn’t matter whether you like it or not but we’re the best chance you’ve got of getting out alive. Now I’ve already let your shit slide because I don’t have a choice. What are you going to do?’
‘Bollocks though, isn’t it Just more fucking fun and games. Just same old Coleman getting what she wants.’
‘Alright then. What do you want?’
‘Get home,’ said Skeebs, scratching at his neck so as not to meet her eye.
‘Right. So we need to work together for that. Let’s start by playing some cards. What you got to lose?’
‘Nothing, thanks to you,’ Skeebs grumbled but he was getting up and moving to the table, slumping into the nearest seat, pulling off his gloves and shaking his hands.
Caleb’s expression was set, small eyes glaring at Amanda, big hands dangling over bent knees.
‘You coming?’ asked Amanda. ‘What was I supposed to do? Tell AK “no”? We’d just crashed, Bridget was dead, should I really have brought the decision to you and Skeebs? Like we had any choice? I’ve got no intention of letting him get away with this. What I agreed or didn’t agree is irrelevant because we’re going home. But first we’ve got to get through this. I’m trying, Caleb,’ she waved at the notes on the floor. ‘You can see I’m trying. And I need you because without you, we both know I’d be so much worse. My family’s dead because of me. I just want my little girl back.’
‘Think I wanted to beat your boy?’
‘I knew you could. You really wanted me to do it?’
‘The knife? You really going to be the one to…’
‘You’re going to have to give me time on that. But I’m going to get us out of this. Whatever it takes. Once this is all over, we’re going to talk. Things are going to change. How can they not?’
The big man rolled onto his feet, grunting and breathing hard the whole way until he reached his impressive height. ‘We get through this, my choice of pub.’
Amanda smiled, relieved. ‘Least let me beat you at cards first.’
Skeebs’ breath clouded the air and he took another long, wet sniff. They all watched as he swallowed. ‘It getting colder in here?’
The room was colder than ever, frost stitching its way down the walls like creepers. Their own sweat and tears condensed and frozen on the metal.
‘Map said we’d be going north a bit,’ said Caleb. ‘Can’t feel my ears.’ He adjusted the leather and fur deerstalker on his head. He worked his hands to keep the circulation going, his worn knuckles red against the pale skin.
Once they were all seated, Amanda began to deal, rattling off the rules, explaining for Steph’s sake.
Being closer was good, they could feel the warmth coming off each other. Four huddled figures huddled closer.
They used peanuts for chips, drank what remained of the soft drinks. Stakes and ring-pulls gathered on the table between them. Beyond the game’s basics of ‘call’s and ‘fold’s so did the silence. Things unsaid had gathered in a cloud above the room, their words together helped some but there was still a ways to go, Amanda reckoned. Did she mean any of it? Or was she playing them? Truth was she didn’t know herself any more.
Steph was looking pale and shaky, like she was on the tail-end of a rotten hangover. This was what magic cost when a user didn’t have the right tattoos. The after-effects came at you sideways, gave headaches, stomach cramps and worse. Every time they tried something and she wasn’t inked was costing her.
‘How the studies going?’ asked Caleb.
‘We’ll be re
ady,’ said Amanda. ‘Whoever wrote those books didn’t want it to be easy but I think we’re getting it. Couple of things we need to do. Skeebs, Steph’s going to need a tattoo. We’ve got the ink figured out. Ten minutes to finish preparing it and we’re ready to go.’
‘Yup,’ Skeebs took a card, barely paying attention to the conversation.
‘Bit young for a tat aren’t you?’ asked Caleb, a smile creeping onto his lips.
‘Not like anyone’s going to stop me,’ said Steph.
Caleb chuckled.
‘We playing or not?’ grumbled Skeebs.
‘Sure,’ said Amanda, splaying her hand onto the table a card at a time. ‘Because I’ve got a—’
‘Full house,’ said Steph laying down her cards.
‘Well shit.’
‘Someone here’s been paying attention,’ Caleb smiled.
Steph smiled too, her cheeks growing pinker. ‘And I already have a tattoo. My mum gave me a protection ward when I was twelve.’
‘Twelve?’ Caleb puffed out his cheeks.
‘You get me one?’ Skeebs asked her. ‘Does it help against…?’ His eyes flicked towards Reeves.
‘Not really,’ she said. ‘But I can show you a picture, when we get…’
The word ‘back’ died on her tongue.
They shifted in their seats, cleared their throats, stared at the table like the word was writhing on the table between them.
‘Can’t wait to get out of here,’ said Caleb. ‘Surprised that fire wasn’t worse, amount of fucking farts trapped in here with us.’
‘You making most of them,’ said Skeebs.
‘Won’t be long now,’ said Amanda. ‘Get this done and we can figure out our next move. Get a call into Jamison, see what he thinks.’
‘Think he might help?’ asked Caleb.
‘With the right encouragement.’
Steph’s eyes flicked to her. Amanda gave her the smallest of winks. In helping the girl, she’d felt something. Maternal was the best word she could put to it. For a few minutes at least, she’d felt like a mother again. The role was as easy and as comfortable as a favourite jacket, before guilt and grief had crushed it back down. But it was still in there, the smallest spark that, if she left alone for long enough, might help her make something new.
The girl looked back to her cards, hiding her smile from Caleb and Skeebs by readjusting her glasses.
‘Think Jamison could persuade AK?’
‘Reckon he can with our help. Just think, we pull this off we’ve saved a lot of people’s lives. Kind of makes us superheroes, doesn’t it?’
‘Huh,’ Caleb snorted. ‘There’s Amanda for you, always another way to inflate her ego.’
‘What can I say? Opportunities just fall my way. And winning hands. Three of a kind.’
The others threw in their cards. Caleb passed the pack to Skeebs, his turn to deal.
The boy was scratching at his hands, the skin between his thumb and forefinger scored with pink lines. He picked up the cards and began to shuffle.
‘Few more hands and we’re back to it,’ said Amanda to Steph. ‘With my winnings.’ She picked up one of her hard-earned peanuts and popped it in her mouth.
‘What?’ Skeebs snapped.
‘Never invited you to her card games,’ said Caleb. ‘Never turn your back on her. Been beating the best before you were a glint in daddy’s eye. Hadn’t seen it for myself, I swear she was cheating—’
‘Never knew my dad,’ Skeebs mumbled, frowning down at the table. ‘Always just been me and my bruv… But he’s always pushing. Making me do stuff. Acts like some big time gangster. But I don’t… Was him got himself in prison. If he’d just followed the plan. Always thinking of himself. How it affects him, how it makes him look. Never thinks… never thinks about…’
The others exchanged glances over his head at this small burst of introspection. The boy, it seemed, had been doing some thinking while they’d all been quiet.
‘Why’d he sell me out, eh?’ A single, thin tear leaked down the boy’s cheek. ‘Made me come on this. Him and AK. They knew they were sending us out to die. Danny traded me. He got me to come out on this so he’d be in with AK, get him some extra protection in prison. Because I didn’t have what it takes. Couldn’t kill her for him. Now I’m just one of these,’ he lifted a peanut and let it flop to the table again. ‘Either I get him in with AK or with the Indians. He doesn’t care. Long as he gets what he wants.’
Amanda frowned as Skeebs pointed at her, trying not to look up from her cards.
‘He’s a shit,’ Skeebs went on. ‘And when I get back, I’m going to say to him. I’m going to…’
He hiccupped. The cards tumbled through his fingers, his hands still performing the action of shuffling, clawed hand moving up and down.
‘Easy there,’ Amanda pointed round the table at them. Steph hurried to pick them up off the floor.
Skeebs flinched, face screwing up as the girl grabbed around his feet. ‘Fuck you doing?’ The words were slurred, catching on the ‘F’. He leaned back, head swinging drunkenly, screwing his eyes up at the light.
They watched it happen in slow motion as he leaned back too far and to the side. He fell, crumpling to the floor as limp as the sleeping bag draped around him.
‘Easy,’ Caleb moved to catch him, too little too late. ‘You alright?’
‘What’s going on?’ Skeebs raised his head from the floor. He twitched his legs but made no move to lift himself. He looked around like he couldn’t see why the room had flipped ninety degrees. ‘What the fuck’s…’
‘You OK?’ On his knees, Caleb’s hand slipped under the boy’s shoulder, urging him upright. ‘Should be taking better care of yourself. Staying awake. Drinking shit.’
With a couple of false starts, Caleb helped Skeebs find his way upright. The boy’s movements were slow and uncoordinated, tongue thick in his mouth. ‘What’s going on?’
Amanda’s stomach flopped as she saw the yellow sheen in the whites of the boy’s eyes. It was creeping out of his skin too, his face blushing the colour of desert sand.
Skeebs turned his head and heaved. Water, Redbull and peanuts splashed across his feet.
Steph squealed with surprise, jumping away too late to save the end of her sleeping bag.
‘Woah…’ Skeebs blinked at it, spit drooling from his bottom lip. ‘Jesus, man.’
He slumped in Caleb’s arms, eyes rolling back in his head. The man only just managed to abort Skeebs’ fall so he didn’t smack his head.
Amanda was up and at the boy’s side, Steph stepping away in horror. ‘Is it Reeves doing this?’
The three of them gasped, recoiling as a wave of melancholy plunged cold hands into their chests. For a moment, Amanda felt that she would do anything to see Danny released from prison. But just as quickly it was gone again. ‘Did…’ Amanda squeezed her eyes shut, trying to shake off the lingering shadows of the fleeting emotion. ‘Did anyone else feel that?’
‘Starting to think it isn’t exhaustion,’ said Caleb, blinking hard, as Amanda knelt.
‘Look at his skin, he’s going yellow.’
The boy was unconscious but breathing.
‘Skeebs?’ Caleb tapped at the boy’s cheek. ‘Skeebs? Stephen?’ But he didn’t wake. ‘What do we do?’
Reeves hadn’t moved, standing between his chains deathly still. There was something eerie to the way he didn’t move. A person would have shifted from foot to foot, sniffed and scratched but not Reeves. He swayed with the train, keeping in perfect balance. He wasn’t even shivering, something they all did constantly now. Were it not for the mask moving in and out as he breathed, Amanda would almost be convinced that he wasn’t alive at all.
‘This has to be him,’ she said. ‘Get him into his spot, make sure he’s warm.’ Amanda got to her feet. ‘I need to think.’
‘You going to ask him what he did?’
‘Think he’ll give us a straight answer? No, we’re not giving him an audien
ce every time he fucks with us. What else can we do?’
‘Actually—’ Steph bit off the word.
‘What?’ asked Amanda. ‘This isn’t the time to be shy.’
‘I think I read something. It might be a way to stop him from affecting us.’
‘You’re just telling us that now?’
The girl scowled. ‘You’re the one who wanted us to stop and play cards.’
‘Alright fine. What do we do?’
Chapter 24
Amanda
The present – thirty-five hours to destination
‘It’s dangerous.’
Steph had walked them through it. Amanda had only understood half of it, liked less than that but had no other options.
Now she was sitting cross-legged opposite Steph. The girl was in her sleeping bag, books and artefacts strewn around her like a magpie in her nest.
Amanda’s palms were sweating in her gloves, stinging the burn on her wrist, but she didn’t dare take them off. Sweat tickled down her spine beneath the layers of clothing. She had to fight to keep her attention on seeing her daughter again rather than desperately find an excuse to stop.
Caleb was shivering against the table, ankles crossed and hands tucked into his armpits, watching over them. His small eyes kept moving from Amanda to Steph and back again, betraying his nerves.
Skeebs was cocooned in his sleeping bag, shivering and grunting in turns.
‘After the knife we’re a bit past that, aren’t we?’ said Amanda. ‘Dangerous how?’
A long string of neon pink nylon retrieved from Steph’s rucksack dangled between the girl’s bare thumb and forefinger. What she needed to do required more dexterity than Caleb’s overlarge gloves would allow. The skin on the back of her right hand was pink and tender looking from the fire.
‘I’ll be opening my powers. There’s a chance that he could try to drain me while I’m doing this,’ she said in a low whisper, eyes darting to the prisoner.
Cupping her hands with the string inside, she breathed hot into them, rubbed them together, started to tie the ends into a loop. That done, she looped it over her forefingers, gave it a tug.
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