The Rules. Book 1; The End

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The Rules. Book 1; The End Page 12

by Jon Jacks


  The soldiers swiftly took up positions on the streets, or charged inside.

  ‘What’s going on out there?’ Geraldine hollered. ‘Martial law?’

  Foley turned to Beth, his face lighting up with an elated grin.

  ‘I reckon that’s it Annie! I reckon martial law’s been declared! Everything’s come to a halt! All your deliveries, your farming, your drilling up the oil, your shipping it! Everything’s been rationed!’

  For the first time, he noticed the stolen shopping that had scattered across the floor as Geraldine had hurriedly fought her way to the wheel.

  Without bothering to turn his head, Foley shouted up to the driving cab.

  ‘You need anything to eat Gerry?’

  ‘Not hungry,’ she cried back, sounding not a little surprised by this realisation.

  ‘Me neither,’ Foley said, adding, with a smile at Beth, ‘And you?’

  Beth shook her head. She wasn’t hungry.

  Even though the last thing she had eaten was her breakfast.

  Alongside them, Solstice groaned.

  ‘I’m burning, burning everywhere.’

  The patterns made by the apparently hardened fluids had changed, creating an even more gruesome melange of red, pink and white.

  If the bullet was still in there, Beth realised, it could cause even more complications.

  She hoped it had passed completely through him. It was impossible, however, to see if there had ever been a hole running completely through his shoulder.

   ‘You’re not burning, you just feel like you are,’ Foley cruelly snickered, adding with a shout, ‘Hey Gerry; you pinch any painkillers while you were in that shop?’

  ‘Ah ah,’ Geraldine yelled back, shaking her head.

  ‘Ah well, they wouldn’t have done you much good anyway Solly, my old mate.’

  Solstice, his skin tautly pulled across his skull, clenched hard on Foley’s jacket.

  ‘It feels like my whole body’s tearing apart!’

  ‘It probably is, Solly, it probably is. We’ll be back soon. Get some sleep.’

  Quickly rising to his feet, Foley punched Solstice hard across his chin, knocking him out.

  ‘Save him suffering too much, eh?’

  He smiled, ignoring Beth’s reproachful frown.

   

   

  *

   

   

  ‘Don’t give me that look, Annie!’ Foley snapped almost playfully at Beth. ‘You could save him, but I don’t see you rushing to help. You know what’s inside him is more use to us than he could ever be.’

  ‘Me? Save him? How could I do that? And what do you mean, what’s inside him? Are you saying he’s got something inside him too? Have we all – including Gerry?’

  Her eyes flickered towards Geraldine. What could be lying inside that vast bulk?

  ‘Course not!’ Foley chuckled. ‘And of those of us that have,’ he said, closely observing Solstice’s trembling, anguished features, ‘some are far less fortunate than others. And you made a mistake, didn’t you Solly mate? Getting yourself injured after Annie’s calendar had called time on everything!’

  ‘Can’t you explain anything to me?’ Beth snapped in frustration. ‘You just talk in riddles. How’s it my calendar? How’s it affect Solly’s injury?’

  Foley shook his head sadly.

  ‘Ah, but you see, you should know all these answers for yourself, Annie dear. That’s what I don’t understand about all this. You’re getting some things right, yeah – like the riddle you created, right, as well as the calendar. But then, other times, you act like it’s all nothing to do with you!’

  ‘I didn’t create the riddle and the calendar! I just found them! They were already there, Foley!’

  Foley grinned, like she had just proved the very point he was trying to make.

  ‘See what I mean? It’s the riddle that woke me up, Annie. That’s waking everyone up. Letting everyone recognise who they really are. And the calendar; that says, yeah, the time is finally right. Though, of course, as soon as I realised I was here – inside a man rather than a woman – I knew it was finally the end game.’

  ‘A man? The end game?’

  ‘You really don’t know?’

  Foley appeared genuinely surprised. He shook his head in amazement.

  He reached out, placed a hand on each side of Beth’s head. He drew her closer to him until they were face to face.

  ‘Annie, our time has finally arrived! The war’s about to start all over again!’

  ‘War?’

  Foley guffawed excitedly.

  ‘The war the idiots call the war between good and evil – which really depends on which side you’re on, doesn’t it? And this time, Annie, we’ll win!’

   

   

  *

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

  Chapter 32

   

  Naturally, in Beth’s dreams that night, she was surrounded by roaring flames.

  Her poor mum!

  How could she possibly see her again?

  The only thing she had managed to save was the sword.

  The only thing connecting her to her life with her mum was a fake Excalibur!

  Everything in the old trunk, full of the writings and thoughts from countless past generations of her family, had all been lost to the fire.

  She had only just discovered it all too.

  Only to lose it all the very next day!

  Wait! Hadn’t there been an odd piece of poetry or something, appearing time and time again?

  About Merlin bringing an end to a war with demons and sprites?

  Could that be what Foley meant?

  Didn’t he say the war between good and evil was starting all over again?

  Yes! Merlin had trapped both ‘good and bad’.

  (Was that it? She couldn’t quite remember it exactly!)

  For ‘over a thousand years’. And over a thousand years had passed, easily, since those lines had been written.

  He had trapped them in – what was it – a most enduring substance?

  Rock? Diamond?

  No! Of course!

  What could be more enduring than generation after generation of humans?

  Merlin had trapped the magical beings – or spirits, or whatever they were – inside man!

   

   

  *

   

   

  That’s why she could hear the voices! Why she could feel something odd inside her!

  Why Foley was changing, too! Why he had those magical powers!

  And why Kate had those powers!

  All because Merlin had chosen man to trap the warring spirits inside!

  No!

  Inside women.

  Because only women, surely, could pass on the magical spirit to their baby?

  And that’s why her mum had felt such a sense of loss when Beth had been born!

  That’s what Foley had meant, too, when he had said he knew the ‘end game’ was near. Because his spirit had found himself trapped inside a man!

  And a man can’t pass on the magical spirit!

  She was suddenly elated.

  It made sense of so much that had been happening to her!

  But – her elation abruptly died.

  If she had got a magical spirit inside her, what sort was it?

  Good?

  Or bad?

   

   

  *

   

   

  When they had arrived back at the old farmhouse serving as their squat, everyone had been asleep.

  Foley had wanted to wake them. To kick them awake as he usually did, telling them to make him some food.

  But no one had been hungry. They had just been tired, and weren’t in the mood for talking.

  So they had made the
ir way to the corners or sections of wall that they had transformed, as best as they could, into their own individual space.

  Beth’s old mattress and quilt were still where she had left them just a few days earlier. It was like everyone had been expecting her back.

  At Foley’s insistence, they had left Solstice on the bus.

  ‘If you don’t want to wake anyone up, you can hardly bring that squealing pig in!’

  Solstice had been getting worse as they had travelled. He had shrieked in a mix of agony and curses whenever they had tried to move him.

  So Beth and Gerry had wrapped him up as tightly and warmly as they could in the blankets taken from the Magic Bus’s own stores.

  They had also changed the dressing and poultice of herbs that Beth had earlier wrapped around the wound, again using the supplies carried on the bus.

  If he’s worse in the morning, Gerry and Beth had agreed, we’re taking him to the hospital. No matter how much Foley says it’s something we should be able to handle ourselves.

  In the morning, however, when Beth checked on Solly, she found him soundly asleep.

  She would leave him a while longer, she decided, rather than disturbing him.

  He needed the sleep. It would help him begin to recover.

  She had woken up earlier than anyone else. Everyone slept late, as no one had a job to go to. But Beth wanted to wash the clothes she had worn while tending Solly.

  They were stained with something that might have been blood or might have been sauce. All kinds of food had spilled across the bus floor as Geraldine’s stolen shopping had rattled, crashed and smashed against the seat legs.

  Beth scooped up Foley’s even filthier clothes. He had discarded them across the floor as he had wearily stumbled towards his own corner.

  They would have to be scrubbed by hand, as there was still no electricity. But if she didn’t wash them, Foley would take a perverse pride in walking around in clothes covered in what could be Solly’s blood.

  The water was cold. There was no gas for the water heater.

  This being a squat, all their regular power supplies depended on an illegal system of pipes and cables they had used to tap into the main system. But no gas was coming through the pipes.

  They also had a back up system for whenever they were cut off from the general electricity supply. As the others began to gradually wake up, however, it soon became clear that, no matter how hard they ran the petrol driven generator, it only made the toasters and a heater fizzle and pop worryingly.

  There was a good supply of canisters of calor gas, but this could only be used to power an old cooker.

  As it happened, however, no one was hungry. Not even Geraldine.

  Beth was a bit disappointed that there wasn’t more of a celebration over her return, until it dawned on her that she had only been away a few days.

  In the crusty community, people would disappear for months and nobody would see anything unusual about it.

  Fact was, it would be more unusual if people didn’t go walkabout every now and again.

  At least Drek seemed happy to see her.

  Beth was pleased to see that he had finally got rid of those broken spectacles and replaced them with a much smarter looking pair of dark sunglasses. He bounded towards her as soon as he saw her tidying up her corner.

  ‘So hey, that’s why you were so desperate to get inside that old hill, is it?’ he said, giving her a tight, playful hug. ‘You wanted Excalibur!’

  Picking up the sword Beth had placed by the side of her bed, he briefly swung it around. The heavy blade was obviously putting a strain on his wrist, however, for it wavered frighteningly, like he might let it fall at any moment.

  ‘Cool,’ he said. ‘It feels real! I wasn’t expecting it to be so heavy.’

  ‘Yeah, it’s really sharp too Drek.’

  Beth was warily keeping out of his way as he continued to practise a few sword thrusts and parries.

  ‘So perhaps you could be a little more careful with it, eh?’

  She gave a silent sigh of relief as Drek finally set the sword down.

  ‘But how come you ended up with it Beth? How did you get it out of the stone they found it in? Don’t tell me you pulled it out! So now you’re the King of England, right?’

  Beth realised that he was confusing the sword with the one she had discovered under Silbury Hill. As she had noticed herself earlier, they looked surprisingly similar.

  ‘No, it’s just a copy. There’s probably a few of them that were made. Someone must have bought one, and that gave them the idea for the joke Sword in the Stone.’

  ‘That was a joke? It wasn’t real?’

  Drek was suddenly crestfallen. He had obviously enjoyed the idea that the real Sword in the Stone had been found.

  Since he had first rushed over to her, Beth had sensed there was something different about Drek, but she hadn’t been able to work out what it was. Now it suddenly dawned on her.

  ‘You’re not coughing! You’re taking your medicine again!’

  Drek smiled, shook his head.

  ‘I mean, yes, you’re right about me no longer coughing. But no, I’m not taking my medicine. Foley sold off this month’s prescription weeks ago!’

  To make his point that he was fine, he breathed in deeply then let the air out slowly.

  This simple exercise would have set him violently coughing and spluttering just a few days ago.

  ‘So, I don’t get it,’ Beth said happily. ‘How come the cough’s gone? I thought the doctor had said it’s just one of these things you’ll just have to live with for the rest of your life?’

  Drek shrugged.

  ‘How should I know? Genetic crop mutations, maybe? Got to be some beneficial effects from them, yeah?’

  Beth giggled.

  ‘Drek, I don’t think your cough disappearing – no matter how miraculous it is, right? – is going to have anything to do with genetic crops!’

  ‘Oh yeah smarty pants? Then how do you explain this?’

  He suddenly whipped off his sunglasses.

  Beth gawped in astonishment.

  Both of Drek’s eyes were perfectly normal.

   

   

  *

   

   

   

   

   

   

   

  Chapter 33

   

  Drek’s eyes sparkled mischievously.

  He was relishing the effect this incredible revelation had had on Beth.

  ‘I’d wanted to surprise you with it later,’ he chuckled happily. ‘Isn’t it amazing? Isn’t it wonderful?’

  ‘Wonderful?’

  Beth shook her head, like she thought she must be dreaming, or finally going crazy.

  She leant forward, giving Drek the most incredibly tight hug she could manage.

  ‘It…it’s fantastic Drek! I’m so glad for you. It’s amazing! Unbelievable!’

  ‘Yeah, so now do you believe me that there must be some genetic mutation thing going on, eh?’ he said as they drew apart. ‘Cos it’s not just me, right? It’s a pity you can’t see Limpet. But you’ll see the old geezers aren’t endlessly complaining about their aches and pains any longer.’

  ‘Limpet?’ Beth knew she shouldn’t laugh, but she couldn’t stop giggling as she scoffed, ‘You’re not telling me he’s no longer got a limp!’

  ‘Straight up, Beth! He’s taken off, hasn’t he? Says he’s knows some babes out in Bath. Says he’s got a lot of wasted time to make up for!’

  ‘No!’

  ‘Honest. Left the farm at a run. Almost did the hop, skip and jump he did!’

  ‘That’s impossible Drek! His leg had almost wasted away! It’s been so long since he had used it right!’

  ‘I saw his leg Beth! It was just like his other one – well, not exactly like, as he’d have two left feet, wouldn’t he? But you know what I mean!’

 
; Beth scratched her head, wondering how such a thing could be possible.

  Wondering, too, if Drek was just winding her up and was going to crack out laughing any moment now.

  Then she saw Geraldine pulling in her long flowing skirt about her waist.

  Geraldine looked every bit as surprised as Beth was.

  Sure, she was still, as Geraldine would like to describe herself, ‘heavyset’. But she was nowhere near as ‘heavyset’ as she had been last night.

  ‘Gerry! Have you lost weight? How did you manage that so quickly?’

  Geraldine looked up, her eyes wide with astonishment.

  ‘So you noticed too? I thought I had to be imagining it! How the heck have I lost all this weight over a few days? Sure, I haven’t felt even the tiniest bit hungry, but–’

  ‘You should make one of those fitness videos Gerry!’

  Solstice had just entered the room. His voice was a harsh, pained grumble.

  ‘Make yourself a million, like Jane Fonda.’

  He looked so frail it seemed that he would fall at any moment. He dragged his feet, staggered and stumbled.

  He had to support himself on the wall every now and again.

  He managed an anguished grin.

  ‘Morning all!’ he growled as brightly as he could.

  Brightness wasn’t usually to be expected of Solstice. He knew he looked terrible.

  He was trying to make light of the way he looked, in the hope of somehow fooling everyone, including himself, into thinking everything was really all right, all fine.

  But he looked worse than he thought.

  Even those with the natural inclination to help support someone who looked so frail and unsteady held back, fearing that what he had might be catching.

  ‘Solly! Good to see you!’

  Nobody noticed who spoke. All eyes were on the shambling wreck of a man slowly making his way across the floor.

  ‘What’s wrong with him?’

  Drek couldn’t take his eyes of Solstice. He spoke in a mumbled whisper through the corner of his mouth.

  ‘He never looked great, but now he looks worse than ever!’

  Yeah, he is worse than ever, Beth thought.

  When she had checked on Solstice earlier she had resisted the urge to pull back the blankets or the dressing.

  She hadn’t wanted to risk waking him.

  Now she could see that the wound had somehow grown, the pattern of hardened, molten flesh expanding way beyond the confines of the dressing.

  Beth and Geraldine had torn way what had been left of the right side of his jacket while applying the poultice. Now every inch of revealed skin appeared affected.

  Could a wound do that?

  Could it grow, increase in size?

  Gangrene didn’t look like that, did it?

  ‘Solly, my old man!’

  As Foley energetically stepped into the room, he had no qualms about eagerly embracing Solstice.

 

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