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Authors: Patrick Ness

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BOOK: The Crash of Hennington
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—Usually three or four hundred ccs.

—Holy cow, Mom! That’s enough to kill people.

—I had to work my way up to it.

—Did you shoot or snort?

—I shot. Morty—

—Like where did you buy the stuff?

—Morton, is your father around?

—No. Where did you shoot?

Greg had been a more difficult hurdle. She had managed to get Morton that first time and then Morton and Tucker on the second call, each time asking for her ex-husband. Jacki found herself struggling to even remember his face. Had they really been strangers that long? He answered himself on the third try.

—Hello, Greg.

—Jacki. So the rumors are true.

—They like to think so.

—I didn’t know what to say when Morton and Tucker told me that you called, and you know what? I still don’t.

—I’ve been—

—I know. Drug heaven. I’m not sure I appreciate that kind of talk to my sons, Jacki. They’re at an impressionable age. It’s hard enough to keep them away from bad elements without their mother emerging from the past as a cool junkie.

—I’m drug-free now.

—So you say, but for how long?

—I’ve risked my life to do it. I’ll either succeed, or I’ll die. Either way, doubt shouldn’t be an issue for you.

—That’s all very melodramatic, Jacki, but surely you understand—

—Of course I do. I’m in trouble, Greg.

—Why am I not surprised?

—Big trouble. I may not come out of it with my life. I’m not exaggerating to win your sympathy. Those are the facts, and believe me, I wish they were different. That’s what I’m facing. I had to call the boys. I
had
to.

—So let’s see where we stand, Jacki. You turn invisible,
vanish right off the face of the planet, returning to us in rare, garbled phone calls and in the occasional grapevine report of drugs and even worse. Then you vanish completely, leaving me to explain to your sons why you’ve disappeared though I don’t even know myself. Two years pass and now you’re back? Out of the blue. In trouble, surprise surprise, but now drug-free and ready to be a mother again? You’ll have to forgive my incredulity.

—I have no counter-argument.

—So why should I act any differently than any other sensible person in my position would?

—I have no legitimate reason that I can reasonably expect you to believe, except to say that what I’ve told you is true. I’m in danger. Thomas Banyon is after me. If he finds me, I’m probably dead. This literally may be my last chance to talk to my sons. Literally. I had to take the risk, even the risk of you saying no.

—You didn’t ask me first. You’ve talked to them already.

—I wouldn’t expect you to act any different if the situation was reversed.

—The situation would never
be
reversed, Jacki.

—Nevertheless.

—Why is Thomas Banyon after you?

—It’s too long and degrading to explain. Please, Greg. I’m at your mercy. Please don’t put an end to this.

A long pause, another obstacle jumped or not.

—I trust that your maternal instincts are sharp enough not to put them in any danger.

—That would never happen.

And it wouldn’t, a point she was trying to make again to the shorter one, whose resistance she could feel weakening. Morton and Tucker wouldn’t even know she was there. She would go to their school and wait. She would look for them
as they arrived or after they left. She would question them lightly during their phone conversations about their school activities to find out the best place to watch. She would see them from a distance.

—And that’s all.

—The risk you’re taking—

—We can make it so the risk is all mine.

—There’s no way to do that.

—Just get me a car—

—And have you drive how? Crouched down in the driver’s seat?

—You could get me a disguise.

—Our resources are hardly unlimited. Don’t forget that. We do what we can, but we’re not miracle-workers.

—Look, please. Please. Think of this. I may never see them again.
Never.
It’s that serious, and as optimistic as you are, I know you know I’m right. This could really be it. It’s a risk I’m willing to take.

He looked at her for a moment, and she knew she had won.

—I’ll see what I can do.

94. A Cold Dish.

He called Theophilus from the Bisector on the way back from the meeting.

—What we discussed has come to fruition, Brother Velingtham.

—I expected that it would, Brother Noth. So no one now needs to vote for our dear befuddled Brother Banyon?

—No, thank heavens.

—Don’t worry, my friend. We are more than happy to help you drive out the dark wind.

—Yes, of course, the dark wind. The election’s only six days away. Are you sure you have enough numbers to actually make a difference at the ballot box?

—My people have been on a mission, acting on the prophecies they’ve received in the Sacraments, spreading the word around the city. You don’t need to concern yourself with my methods. As I’ve said, it only takes a small catalyst to spark a big change. The message is being disseminated.

—So you’ve gone beyond the one church, then?

—In the true sense, no. We have established the one true Church and new followers come to us every day. Answering the spirit of your question, though, yes, the message has spread to other congregations, and we anticipate many more in the coming days. By the time election day arrives, you will have no worries about the size of your assistance in driving out the dark wind.

—And there’s no trouble with the preacher you kicked out?

—He’s finding difficulty in getting our local, devout police force to listen to him.

—I’m guessing then that it was your people who orchestrated the attack on The Crash.

—Again, are methods so important to know? Isn’t it the ends that both of us are after, that both of us
have been
after since we met so very long ago?

—It’s only that I wonder if attacking The Crash doesn’t play right into Thomas’ hands.

—Whoever it was that might have attacked The Crash could very well be hoping that the kind of extreme reaction to Thomas Banyon’s view on The Crash might in fact be exactly the kind of backfire that Thomas Banyon so foolishly doesn’t expect.

—I follow you. If a few people react to him in this way,
everyone else will be too scared of what he’s capable of.

—I also think that whoever it was that might have attacked The Crash would be foolish to discuss that attack over a mobile phone.

Jon paused. Theophilus was right, of course. There was something here he didn’t like though, something odd, something
off,
out of his control, something that made him uncomfortable enough to ignore basic caution, apparently.

—Theophilus, look, these phrases you use, ‘driving out the dark wind’ and so forth. I’ve assumed all along that you’ve meant them metaphorically, like you said.

—Ye-e-es?

Theophilus stretched the word out to several syllables, and even over the mobile, even over the noise and honks of the traffic around him, Jon could still hear the taut smile in it.

—What exactly do you mean?

—Read the Sacraments, my dear boy. All will be revealed to those who believe.

—Of course, of course, but how are you able to spread that belief so rapidly? How are you going to be able to muster the numbers? You cover yourself by your Sacrament-speak, and I understand and respect that, but brass tacks, Theophilus, there’s a lot here that I’m not seeing and I’m not comfortable with it.

He heard a long sigh over the phone line.

—Your faith was always a worry for me, Jon.

—I still have the faith—

—I don’t think you do, but even now, that is perhaps not so important. What will happen will happen regardless of your faith. You cannot avoid your destiny even if you may not acknowledge it. As for my methods, speaking the Word is easy, because the Word is truth, the Sacraments are truth, the message is truth. People believe because it’s truth. Things
accumulate. Disseminating the Word is easy as well. Don’t forget that you are not Rumour, and we have ways and avenues that you don’t understand.

—The Rumour Underground.

—I can neither confirm nor deny.

—But I thought that was just a—

—A rumor, yes, you wouldn’t be the first to take a stab at the pun.

—No, what I meant was that I thought it was purely a charity thing, a benevolent organization, if organization is even the right word.

—Let’s put it this way. A phone signal is merely a means of communication. It is neither benevolent nor malevolent. It merely is.

—I don’t—

—All I can tell you is what I’ve already told you, dear Brother Jon. Have faith. Prepare yourself for the times to come. They’re coming whether you’re prepared or not, so think how much easier it will all be for yourself if you are.

—The time for what?

—Goodbye, Jon. I’ll do my part. Make sure you do yours.

He clicked off. Jon sat back against the car seat. The attack on The Crash happened
before
Theophilus knew for sure that Jon was buying Banyon Enterprises, and therefore before he should have known that the plans to elect Thomas had changed. Why would Theophilus have acted before confirming it with Jon? And why had Jon not been able to ask that question? Was it really that easy to lose control? What was going on?

For the first time since he had set foot back in Hennington, Jon was worried.

95. Unprecedented Measures.

LATHAM PUTS CRASH
UNDER CITY PROTECTION
UNPRECEDENTED MOVE IN RESPONSE TO ‘SHOCKING ATTACK’
HENNINGTON – Crash Advocate-General and Mayoral candidate Max Latham announced a plan last night to bring The Crash, Hennington’s wandering herd of rhinoceros, under city protection following the discovery yesterday of the bodies of three men and twenty-two rhinoceros in the densely wooded area behind the Hennington Arboretum.
‘The scope of this massacre,’ said Latham, ‘the deaths of the three men and so many animals, is shocking and horrible. I am, therefore, with the support of Mayor Larsson, ordering the Bering Zoo to assist the city in bringing the remaining animals in the herd into a protected paddock on zoo property. This will protect The Crash as well as allay any fears the public may have about their own safety.’
All twenty-two animals had been shot at close range, and the three deceased men – identified as Roger Norwitcham, 30; Alexander Kolbe, 41; and Fulton Lewis, 23 – were all found wearing hunting gear with rifles nearby. Norwitcham and Kolbe were apparently gored to death and Lewis was trampled. Authorities believe because of the number of animals killed that the three dead men were not working alone, though no other suspects have as yet been apprehended. Latham would not speculate on the reason for the attack, but there have been calls to City I Hall regarding the safety of the public following the as yet unexplained death of so-called ‘Rhinoherd’ Maggerty.
‘I think the citizens of Hennington will agree,’ continued Latham, ‘that regardless of whatever safety issues might arise from The Crash’s behavior towards Maggerty, this sort of attack is unwarranted and heinous. The death of Maggerty is still under investigation, and I ask everyone in the city to keep calm until that investigation is complete.’
Mayoral candidate Thomas Banyon was also quick to comment on both the incident and Latham’s response to it.
‘I would never condone such an attack on The Crash,’ said Ban
yon,
‘but I am also interested to see that Mr Latham seems to care more about the deaths of a few animals than the deaths of three citizens of this city. My thoughts and prayers are with the men’s families.’
When asked if he thought his actions would affect his campaign, Mr Latham responded by saying he thought it was ‘unfortunate that any action, rightly or wrongly, is taken as political during a campaign.’ He indicated that he felt it was his duty as Crash Advocate-General to ensure their protection.
‘The Crash have been a city-wide treasure for as long as anyone can remember,’ Latham said. ‘Obviously something is going on, but I can’t believe that any thinking person, having grown up with The Crash, would want to just get rid of them at the first sign of something unusual. We owe it to them, we owe it to ourselves, to find out what exactly is happening.’
When asked if he suspected malicious interference or foul play surrounding Maggerty’s death, Latham declined to rule them out. ‘All I will say,’ he said, ‘is that the turn of events is suspicious, to say the least.’
Latham did not give a timetable for the release of The Crash from custody, but said that the round-up of the animals was scheduled for this morning at dawn.

96. The Living River.

The herd streamed up and down hills, through fences, across roads, roaming, searching, always moving until they felt ready to collapse from exhaustion. At last, she stopped them in a remote gully. It offered no food or water, but it kept them out of sight for a time. Time enough, she hoped, for the members of the herd to sleep, to heal, and mourn. Many animals were injured, either from the stampede out of the woods or from bleeding wounds from the same kind of explosion that had hit her horn, shredding its front end and causing a throb of pain that still pulsed through her skull.

She walked a brisk circle around the limping, struggling herdmembers as they made their way to the center of the gully. She signaled for them to rest, to gather themselves and their energy for whatever it was that lay ahead, a prospect that she herself equally feared. The gully wasn’t really big enough to hold them all, but none seemed to mind the close company just now, leaning on one another for comfort and support even in the already sweltering heat of early morning. Two newly orphaned calves lay whimpering in a circle of older females, all pressed together offering protection.

BOOK: The Crash of Hennington
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