Terminal (22 page)

‘What else can you feel then?' he challenged her, trying to keep his voice calm.

She moved to one of the smaller consoles. ‘Well, I also know that if I do this …' She splayed her fingers out and pressed her palm onto the top of the console.

The circular wall around the space suddenly came alive with bright pictures. Jürgen was so startled that he took a rapid step backwards and lost his balance, ending up on one knee.

Different images of the Earth's surface – apparently from a viewpoint out in space – covered every inch of the external wall.

‘How …?' Will gasped. Through wispy patches of cloud cover, he was looking at multiple images of continents and oceans. The different views were moving, passing around the walls, overlapping as they went.

‘And I know if I do this,' Elliott said, swiping a single finger across the console, the surface of which was now glowing with blue lines and strange symbols, ‘then I can get closer.'

Jürgen was muttering something as he remained on the floor, his mouth agape as he watched the different scenes.

‘And I also know if I do this …' Elliott continued; she slid
a finger over the panel and one image spun around the walls and stopped where they could all see it just in front of Jürgen, ‘… then this is where I'm meant to be.'

Will's eyes darted from the image to Elliott and back. ‘Me too,' he said very quietly. ‘Because that's England.'

Elliott took her hand from the console and the images were suddenly gone, and everything was as it had been before.

Except Woody was on his knees and gabbling away to himself, his hands pressed together as if he was praying.

Elliott turned towards Will as her shoulders shook and she began to sob. ‘Will, I'm frightened,' she managed to say. She held her arms towards him and tried to take a step in his direction, but almost fell. ‘What's happening? Please, can you just hold me?' she begged him. ‘Please.'

 

 

 

Chapter Nine

A
s he walked along the cliff path with Martha, Chester thought he caught the sound of a helicopter's rotors over the wind. ‘Good bloody riddance,' he said under his breath, because it was likely to be Parry leaving.

Now she had Chester back, there was a very big grin permanently stretched across Martha's grubby face. ‘I've got us a nice place to go, dearie,' she said. ‘We'll be all nice and warm there.'

‘Great,' Chester replied with forced cheerfulness. He was still so angry that he could barely think about anything else.

‘And I bet you could do with something to eat too,' Martha added.

‘Um,' Chester began uncertainly. ‘Just one thing on that front.'

Martha looked at him. ‘Yes, my love?'

‘About my food – from now on I want to know exactly what's in it. Would that be okay?'

‘Of course, my sweet boy,' Martha said, ‘and about that time. I h—'

‘No, please don't tell me. Don't want to hear. Don't want to
hear,' Chester was repeating, holding his hands over his ears.

‘Ha, all right,' Martha cackled. ‘All I'll say is
needs must
,' she added as they continued on their way. ‘Needs must, dearie.'

Glad that he'd got that off his chest, Chester was wondering if they were a little exposed, on a track that was obviously well used, and particularly as it was broad daylight.

Martha divined what he was thinking, and rubbed his shoulder affectionately with what was left of her damaged hand. ‘We're safe wherever we go, love – don't you worry.' She took the stubs of her fingers from him, then swept her hand towards the sky. ‘My little fairy protectors are up there, always watching out for me. They never sleep – not for long anyway. They'll let me know if anyone's close.'

‘So you caught that first Bright in Norfolk,' Chester asked, curious to know what had happened.

‘Yes – after we fought long and hard, I tricked her into the water,' Martha replied. ‘I trapped her there, but I didn't kill her.'

‘Her?' Chester echoed.

‘Yes, I fed her and kept her captive, and to my surprise, she had her bairns.'

Chester's brow furrowed. ‘Bairns? What's that?'

‘You know – babies,' Martha replied. ‘That was why I'd been able to overpower her. She was with young, and it made her slow. The bairns were born in little bags, and from them came tiny Brights, like little fairies. Smaller even than the Miner Birds you get in the Colony.'

‘And they didn't go for you or attack you or anything?' Chester asked.

‘No, because of their mother. I'd kept her tied up, and I
kept the bairns all well fed with rodent catches while my hand and ribs healed.' Martha rubbed her rather rotund chest to emphasise how painful it had been for her. ‘And when it was time to move on I didn't have the heart to kill them. So I cut her free, but she stayed with me, and as you can see she's still with me, and looking out for me.'

‘Truly a guardian angel,' Chester laughed.

Martha nodded. ‘I reckon at one time they lived up here on the surface, because in a matter of weeks they grew used to the gravity. You can see how fast they are now.'

‘So maybe Dr Burrows was right,' Chester said. ‘They
were
up here once, and maybe they're why we have those stories about mythical creatures. The idea for angels, even.'

At the mention of Dr Burrows, Martha stopped grinning. ‘But, my sweet, you've had a rough old time of it, haven't you? I told you not to trust Topsoilers. They'll never be your friends. That man back there did for your family, didn't he? What made him do that?'

Chester didn't feel prepared to go into it right there and then. ‘Parry? It wasn't him exactly, but he was in on it. Look, Martha, I'll tell you all about it later, but my mum and dad got caught up in someth—'

He ducked as two Brights crossed right in front of them, in opposite directions. ‘My God, they're quick,' he said. He'd only had the briefest flash of white intersecting with white before they were both gone.

‘Shhh!' Martha said. ‘And load this for me, will you?' she asked, keeping her voice low as she passed her crossbow over.

Chester took it from her. She'd been parted from her ancient-looking crossbow back in Norfolk, and this replacement was definitely Topsoil-manufactured, the lighter
materials making it more suitable for single-handed use. And Martha had made a few modifications to it, which included a few strips of muddy sacking wound around it and a few clumsy dabs of paint to camouflage it.

‘Sure,' Chester confirmed. He cocked the weapon, then from the quiver over her shoulder selected a bolt. As he seated this in the crossbow, he noticed the shaft was stained with blood, and that tiny pieces of meat were stuck to the point.

Martha was scanning behind them.

‘What is it?' he whispered.

‘See how they're flying low and to the sides,' she said. Chester could just about make out the blurry streaks as the Brights zipped above the trees to the left of the path and in the lee of the cliff on the other side. It was as if they were stalking prey. ‘You see, my fairies warn me if anyone comes close,' Martha continued. ‘Let's get in here and wait for them.'

They moved into the trees, and Martha raised her crossbow. After a short while, Chester spotted a head bobbing along as someone climbed the path up a slight incline. He turned to Martha. ‘Looks like just one person. Will the Brights attack them?'

‘They won't do a thing without my say-so,' Martha whispered. ‘You know that person, don't you? Wasn't she with you?' she asked, pointing with her chin.

As Chester looked back, his heart skipped a beat.

Where the path rose from a slight depression, a single figure was in full view and striding purposefully along.

‘It's Steph!' he exclaimed. ‘But what the hell is she doing all the way out here?'

Martha was immediately suspicious. ‘Could be some kind of trap they're setting for you. But if it is, then she's alone. I
can tell from the way my fairies are shadowing her.'

Stephanie was completely unaware of the lethal animals circling not far above her and under the lip of the cliff only feet away.

She had almost reached where Martha and Chester were hiding when Martha stepped out, her crossbow levelled at the girl. ‘What do you want?' Martha shouted, her voice cold and threatening.

Stephanie nearly jumped out of her skin. ‘Oh, hi, is Chester with you?' she asked, her voice quavering. ‘Oh, you are,' she said, as Chester emerged from the trees. In her warm coat and woolly hat, and with the rucksack on her back, she looked like she could be on a school outing.

‘What are you doing here?' Chester demanded. ‘Why didn't you fly off with that lying bastard and your grandfather?'

Stephanie bit her lip nervously.

‘They have gone, haven't they? I thought I heard a helicopter,' Chester said.

Stephanie nodded.

‘So what are you still doing here?' he repeated.

‘Um …' she replied. ‘I couldn't let you go off thinking that I'd known about Danforth and what happened to your mum and dad, because I didn't. I swear I didn't know anything at all about it. Nobody told me.'

‘Fine, but you're not answering my question,' Chester said urgently. ‘What are you doing here?'

Stephanie's voice was very small under the sound of the wind and the waves crashing at the bottom of the cliff. ‘Um, I came because I was really worried about you … and you left before I could speak to you. So while Parry was helping Gramps – he wasn't hurt that badly – I sneaked away. I grabbed
as much of your stuff as I could because I thought you'd want it.' She swung around slightly so he could see the Bergen filled to bursting point on her back, then looked awkwardly down at the ground. ‘I … er … I wondered if maybe I could come with you, Chester. That we could be together.'

It was clear to Chester that she was embarrassed and would have said more if Martha hadn't been there. And he had no idea what to say in response. He'd been so consumed with anger that he'd been numb to everything else. The truth was that at the moment the first Armagi had made its entrance, part of him hadn't actually cared whether he lived or died.

But this wasn't about him now. During the weeks in the cottage Stephanie had shown him nothing but kindness and affection, and he'd rebuffed her. He liked her very much, and right now he was very frightened for her; Martha was incredibly possessive, and that made her unpredictable. And, Chester didn't doubt, murderous.

By following him, the girl had well and truly put her head into the lion's mouth.

‘You have no place here,' Martha growled. Chester saw her tense her arm as she steadied her aim, lining the weapon up for a shot at Stephanie's chest. ‘We don't need no one along to slow us down,' Martha added, glancing up and obviously considering whether she should instruct her Brights to tear Stephanie apart as an alternative to using a bolt on her.

‘Wait a moment,' Chester said quickly, and stepped closer to Martha. It was no accident that he laid a hand on the woman's rounded shoulder and kneaded it while he whispered into her ear.

As she listened, Martha scratched her chin with the stumps of her finger. ‘Is that right?' she said eventually, turning to him.

‘Absolutely,' he replied.

Martha was looking penetratingly into his eyes. ‘And that's all?' she asked.

‘Definitely,' Chester confirmed, putting on his sweetest, most endearing smile. Martha lowered her crossbow and let out a whistle to her Brights. ‘Come over here, girly, and join us,' she said to Stephanie, grinning with all her black teeth on display.

Chester quietly sighed a huge sigh of relief.

‘I expect a slug of this wouldn't go amiss,' Jürgen said, offering Will the hip flask that he'd taken from his rucksack.

Taking it from the New Germanian, Will sniffed at the neck of flask, then wrinkled his nose in distaste. ‘Oh, no, I don't think so,' he said, quickly handing it back. ‘What is it, anyway?'