JackG@killerschool
Page 18
stores all morning. Some passers-by look at him scornfully, or make some disdainful remarks.
Will Apatheto come today? What will he say when he hears that the woman is still in captivity?
“What a bother that I cannot get this device to cut out the interference from the wood of words,” Apatheto speaks behind him. “How are you my friend?”
Molluscum swings around.
“Oh I am fine, just fine, Mr. Gullible. Just sitting… waiting. Yes…”
“Well, it is such a wonderful day to be out in the open…” Apatheto’s eyes belie his words. “Any news from Jack? From Jack G?”
“Jack! Yes, Jack, that boy actually managed…”
“What?”
“He’s escaped… with some friends… yes…journeying through the wood of words, as far as I know, Sir.”
“Escaped! That is the best news I’ve heard in months! Ah, that’s my boy – always knew he would do it!”
“Yes sir, definitely a chip of the old block!” Molluscum smiles, pleased that he can evade the subject of the woman, but Apatheto is more attentive than that.
“And did you find the lawyer trees? I see Merriam is not with you yet.”
Molluscum hangs his head.
“I see,” nods Apatheto, “but all is not lost – not with Jack out of that place. He will find his way … if he will only listen to that GPS…hopefully that wood will not interfere with its true north…”
“What shall we do, sir?”
“It’s time for me to take my chances with the wood of words. If Jack’s out there – and Merriam – well, I must forget about the danger – and try to help.”
“You mean…”
“Let’s go!”
Apatheto heads for the path that leads into the wood of words.
Blood
Goody is plodding along one of the pathways, afraid and tired. His plan to keep safe and away from harm has backfired and he has no idea how to free himself from these treacherous members of the blood team. “Stick to those who are the strongest, and agree with them even when you don’t,” always seemed to be the safest course to take. What has gone wrong? What will happen to him?
“Aha! “shouts Wesley, poking a sharp stick into Goody’s back. Blood comes oozing through his shirt. “He does not know where they are, but he certainly knows how to find the trail of blood! So how is that possible, little weasel?”
Goody shouts out in pain, but Wesley shows neither remorse nor mercy.
“If I cannot have Jack’s blood, I shall have yours instead. Jack had better be at the end of this trial. I know Yersinia is looking for him… all those posters.”
“What are you talking about? Please leave me alone!” begs little Goody-two-shoes through his tears. Then they all see the stains of blood on the bramble bushes ahead, where the water team has cut down the bushes some time before.
“Locust! Locust! Locust,” the wood starts chanting.
“It seems,” Wesley rasps, “the water team kindly left a trail of blood for us to follow.” He starts laughing, but his voice disappears and a strange vibrating, chirping sound comes from him. Goody turns around in surprise. Wesley’s face has changed and he is beginning to look like a grasshopper. The stick that he used to prod Goody, has grown into a tail for Wesley, with a nasty sting at its end.
“You three, follow that trail!” he ominously chirps and then whips the tail over his head, stinging Bitzer on his back. He cries out in pain, but the three of them do not wait to protest at this treatment. They start running along the man-made path in a great hurry, although they might have laughed at Wesley’s strange voice under different circumstances.
Wesley follows suit, although he cannot understand what is wrong with his voice. He is aware of the stick’s strange behaviour, but has no idea how the shape of his head, and the rest of his body is changing. The Extractor of blood’s looks are changing to match his reputation. What power does the wood of words have over these boys? It’s just his hair, his hair remains human. It becomes soft, and long, like that of a woman.
“Locust! Locust! Locust!” The wood continues its incessant chanting. Bitzer and Sniper are now also growing tails with stings at the end. Their eyes are growing bigger and their heads are becoming square. Soon they are hopping instead of walking.
Deserted
Yersinia is hiding in her boudoir. How unfortunate that there is no way she can hide from the truth about herself. She is turning into the hideous old witch she has always been; a true Lady Macbeth; one who does not want to look into any mirror any longer, because she frightens herself to death.
In spite of all this, she decides to realise one final hatred. If she cannot be Lady Macbeth, nobody else will be either.
“But screw your courage to the sticking place, And we’ll not fail,” [Lady Macbeth in Act 1, Scene 7, Line 60] she mutters through her knitted teeth and then starts crawling downstairs to avoid all the mirrors in the hallways and on the landings.
In the kitchen, she grabs hold of a butcher’s knife and then resolutely sets off for the rose garden.
A sobbing grasshopper
Wesley has noticed the small pool first, and has chased the others away from it.
“I saw it first!” He whirrs and then bends over in anticipation of the cool water quenching his thirst. “What? No!” The grasshopper face stares back at him in shock, the hair falling over his face.
“Wesley Bloodbound, Wesley Bloodbound,” the wood starts chanting. “Don’t forget who you are, Extractor of blood, Extractor of blood!”
A slight snicker becomes audible from the blood team, or maybe it was Shamare. Wesley spins around and angrily starts chasing them along the trail of blood. He realises that everyone in the blood team except little Goody, is hopping instead of running. Bitzer is right in front of him, and his looks have also changed. The three of them are becoming grasshoppers! Soon they reach the clearing where Lefty and Gugu are held hostage against the brambles by Doubt and Fear.
“Aha! We have two of the pathetic little team members. Where is Jack Gullible?” Wesley asks in his whirry, chirpy voice.
“This is where it ends; it ends here,” whispers the wood.
Lefty and Gugu don’t recognise Wesley at all. They stare at him as if he is a complete stranger.
“Jack and Amoran jumped down that cliff!” Lefty yells in panic.
Doubt looks at the newcomers with interest. Shamare looks like the easiest victim, so he approaches her first, grinning from scale to scale. She does not see this immediately though, because she has her back to Doubt, staring down the cliff and calling for Amoran.
Doubt opens his mouth, but then a curious thing happens. He starts shouting at Shamare.
“Jump, little girl! Shamare, jump! Can you hear the waterfall?”
Shamare turns to the sound of the GPS speaking from within Doubt’s throat and gets a fright.
“It’s the water team that will be saved!” says Doubt cum GPS. “Blood has been replaced by water two thousand years ago! Listen!”
Shamare can indeed hear a voice calling from the waterfall.
“Don’t be afraid, Shamare! I shall in no way cast out anybody who comes to me!”
Fear angrily grabs Doubt by the tail and whacks him on the back, trying to get rid of the GPS, but for now it seems to be stuck in Doubt’s valved throat, that prevents water from entering his lungs. Not only Shamare, but also Lefty, Gugu, and even Goody-two-shoes make use of the diversion to jump over the cliff.
Fear lets go of Doubt in exasperation. They have lost most of their victims. He turns his attention to Wesley, smiles and hands him a little hand mirror, so that he can look at what he has become; a long-haired grasshopper, and the name written on his forehead is Hatred. He stares at the image, and at the words that are written over the mirror: You are now one of us.
It is possible that Doubt and Fear expected a reaction from Wesley; something like a self-satisfied smi
rk, or a confident laugh, but Wesley, the Extractor of blood, does nothing of the kind. He looks down at his feet and starts crying shamelessly.
“Jack G, if only I could ask your advice. I think you know something I don’t….” Wesley sobs.
However, when Bitzer and Sniper see themselves in the mirror, they seem to be pleased beyond words. They cannot understand what is wrong with Wesley. Everybody seems to have forgotten about the duel between Jack and Wesley.
Doubt and Fear force the three grasshoppers to return to Yersinia’s school with them.
Yersinia’s private murder
Delinquency has become unrecognisable. Her struggling to free herself from the concrete’s merciless and cold grip has caused the mud and mulch to cover her whole body, her face and her hair. The exposure to the weather elements has made her ill. When Yersinia reaches her, it becomes clear that Delinquency is dying.
“I might have saved myself the trouble, coming here with this knife and all. A little water will clear me from this deed, though. ” [Misplaced confidence? Is she really still quoting Lady Macbeth?]
She smiles through her gapped teeth. Delinquency is too weak to even try crying.
“This is my last chance, you see. If Pestis is not satisfied with this sacrifice, there is nothing else I can do. For once, he could be a gentleman and keep his promise – just for once.”
From the dark belly of the concrete mixer, two evil looking eyes are watching her.
“Now we’re getting somewhere,” Pestis muses.
Out of the Woods
At first it is bumpy, and somewhat frightening. All of this is just too