The Fury (34 page)

Cal caught up with Daisy by the carousel, calling out until she staggered to a halt. When she looked round it was as though she didn’t see him, as though the burning boy had blinded her.

‘Daisy,’ he said, running over, wrapping his arms around her.

She blinked, her eyes swimming in and out of focus and eventually finding him. He held her tight. He didn’t know what to say.

After a moment or two he heard heavy footsteps on the gravel. Chris walking down the path, Adam treading on his shadow. Daisy saw them too. She peeled away from Cal’s grip and ran over to Adam, hugging him. He didn’t react. He didn’t even seem to notice she was there.

‘Tell me Marcus and Brick didn’t go in,’ Cal said. Chris shook his head.

‘Marcus, yeah. Brick’s back there puking his guts up.’

Cal put his hands in his hair, clenching so hard it hurt. He wanted to rip the top of his head off, pull out the memories of everything that had just happened. It didn’t even matter if it killed him. Better dead than this.

‘What happened in there, Cal?’ Chris said. ‘What was wrong with that boy?’

He’s not a boy
, Cal thought.
Not any more. He’s something else
.

But he wouldn’t let himself say what, even though the word flashed up before him like a signal flare in the darkness of his thoughts. He didn’t need to speak, because Chris plucked it right out of his head.

‘Angels?’ the boy said. ‘That’s insane, man.’

‘Forget it,’ spat Cal.
Ha, yeah, just forget it, forget that you saw a boy covered in fire flying around the restaurant, it’s not important
.

He ran back the way he’d come, turning the corner to see Brick on his hands and knees outside the door. He wasn’t being sick, he was sobbing, which was a million times worse. Cal went to him, putting a hand on his back. Brick glanced up, his face so pale that his freckles looked like pen marks. Neither of them spoke. They didn’t need to – they saw in each other’s eyes the truth of what Rilke had told them.

‘Come on, mate,’ Cal said eventually, holding out his hand. Brick took it, hauling himself to his feet. They had taken a dozen steps back towards the carousel before he let go.

Cal collapsed on the steps, the same place they’d been sitting only a few minutes ago but which was now on the other side of time. He put his head in his hands, trying not to think. Brick sat down next to him.

‘What—’

‘Don’t,’ Cal interrupted Chris before he could finish. If they didn’t talk about it, then maybe it might not have been real. ‘Don’t say it, Chris, not now, not ever.’

‘But we have to—’

‘We
don’t
,’ Cal snapped, looking up. Chris was sitting on the path. Daisy and Adam were next to him, both of them staring at nothing. ‘Look, there’s something weird going on, sure, something we don’t understand. But I can promise you this, Rilke doesn’t have a clue what it is either, she’s just guessing, like us. Which is why everything she says is total bull.’

Nobody argued, but nobody looked very convinced.

‘Jade, Marcus, they’ll see that soon enough. They’ll be back. And we need to keep our heads screwed on straight, yeah? We can’t afford to start falling apart now.’

‘So what do we do?’ Chris asked after a moment.

‘We’re all exhausted. We’ve all been through more in a few days than anyone should have to go through in their whole life. None of us has eaten much, we’re probably all bordering on crazy anyway.’

‘That was no hallucination,’ said Brick.

‘I’m not saying it was. But it was dark in there, yeah, and, I don’t know . . . We just need to stick to the plan, we need to get some food. We’ll be able to think of something when we’ve had a chance to eat.’

He looked around. Chris was nodding. Brick shrugged. The idea of going for food seemed alien to Cal. The idea of doing
anything
seemed alien to him now. Yet they had to do something or fall back into the madness of what they had just seen.

‘Need to get the hell away from this place anyway,’ Brick croaked. ‘I never want to come back here again.’

‘Daisy?’ Cal asked. She seemed to stir, her eyes drifting up.

‘I want to go home,’ she said.

‘I know. We all do. Just not yet. Not yet.’

They sat there, listening to the ocean running its ceaseless course against the shore. Even the gulls had fallen silent.

‘So what is the plan?’ Chris asked.

‘We get the car,’ Cal replied. ‘Your car. We go to the factory. We’ll work out the rest when we get there.’

They were out of the park in five minutes. As soon as Cal squeezed free from the laurel hedge he felt the warmth of the day settle back inside him. It was brighter out here, like the park had been drowned in shade, caught beneath the weight of a dirty big cloud. It was easier to forget.

He held up a branch so that the others could push through, Daisy and Adam first, then Chris and Brick. He could hear them all taking a sigh of relief when they stepped into the shimmering haze of the empty street.

‘Maybe someone will have fixed it,’ Daisy said as they started walking along the front of the park. ‘Maybe people won’t hate us any more.’

And it was tempting to believe it – something in the fresh sea breeze that curled over the fence, ruffling their hair, which made it seem like everything might be okay. It was an illusion, of course, a fantasy, but it still felt good.

‘Maybe,’ Cal said. ‘I guess we’ll find out soon enough.’

He looked up, seeing Brick’s graffiti on the Fursville sign. The glaring face looked down at him with its dead ‘x’ eyes, making him shudder. What if they got to the factory and it was full of people? What if they got trapped? One mistake is all it would take for them all to die.

Yet the alternative was worse. The alternative was going back up to the restaurant and falling to their knees in front of Rilke and her burning brother.

They reached the car park and walked through the damaged section of fence. The Jag was rammed into the hedge behind the shed, its tail end glinting through a mask of branches, its boot still open. At least it would be fast, he thought. If they had to make a getaway in a Punto or a Fiesta they’d definitely be screwed. Brick jogged ahead, pulling away the foliage.

‘Got the keys?’ Brick asked. Chris patted his pockets, pulling a face. ‘You
kidding
me?’

‘Yeah, I’m kidding you,’ said Chris, pulling out the fob and unlocking the car. ‘Calm down.’

Brick’s expression was so sour that Cal couldn’t help but laugh. Daisy too, chuckling into her hand.

‘Seriously?’ Brick asked. ‘You think this is
funny
?’

‘Just your face, mate,’ said Cal, and God did it feel good to smile again.

‘Yeah? We’ll see if you’re still giggling when your face is under my backside,’ Brick stuttered, the stupid insult making them all laugh harder. ‘Just shut up,’ he said, but his eyes showed a glimmer of light. ‘You know what I mean.’

‘Come on,’ said Cal, pushing the boot shut. ‘Before Brick sits on my face. Shall I drive?’

‘Uh uh,’ said Chris, jiggling towards the car and sliding behind the wheel. ‘My car, my rules.’

‘Shotgun!’ Cal and Brick yelled together, both of them making a break for the passenger door. Brick got there first, ripping it open and diving in head first. He manoeuvred his gangly body round, extending two middle fingers towards Cal.

‘Looks like all the babies are in the back,’ he said with a grin as Cal kicked the door shut.

‘Up yours,’ he said. He held the rear door open so that Daisy and Adam could clamber inside, getting in after them and planting his knees into Brick’s seat. The bigger boy’s response was to slide his chair all the way back. ‘Hey, no fair,’ Cal yelled. ‘Chris, tell him.’

‘Behave,’ he said, starting the engine. ‘I’m not going anywhere until you stop messing around. And put your seat belts on.’

That did it, all of them doubled over with laughter – even Adam, caught up in the sudden surge, his eyes shining. It could go on forever, Cal thought, this golden light which melted up through each fibre of his body, which made every single particle in the car seem to glow. It wasn’t coming from him, it was flowing from somewhere else, a current of warmth which spread from him to Daisy to Adam to Chris to Brick and back again. Whatever this thing was inside them, it was healing them. It would keep them strong and it would keep them safe.

Cal wiped the tears from his eyes, his cheeks aching. He looked at the others, and in that moment of quiet they seemed to know each other like they had been together for an eternity.

‘You ready?’ he asked.

They all nodded. Chris put the Jag in reverse, revving the engine.

‘Then let’s do this.’

Rilke could hear the faint growl of a car engine, rising and then fading. She knew who it was, she could almost see it through Daisy’s eyes – the five of them inside the big silver car, the fat boy driving. They were laughing.
Laughing
. The sound of it, echoing almost silently through her thoughts, made her blood boil.

She knew where they were going, too. She could pluck that thought out of the storm of emotions inside their minds, as easily as taking a sweet from a bag. It was a sign that whatever was inside her was growing in strength. It had to be. Soon she’d be like Schiller, gripped with a holy fire and ready to burn down the world.

He sat before her now, and even though he was no longer alight, even though he was slumped and loose-limbed like a marionette with its strings cut, she could feel the energy pulsating from him. He was still cold, the carpet beneath him a lake of ice. He stared at the floor with two sets of eyes – the old eyes she knew so well, and two pits of fire which sat over them, shimmering gently.

Marcus and Jade were there too. They were both on their knees, gazing at Schiller as though they had just seen the face of God. It wasn’t too far from the truth, she guessed, except they both had this same gift. It just hadn’t been opened yet. They all had it. She’d seen it inside the man with the shotgun, the one she’d killed – the creature of flame inside him which had died when he died. The ones who fled had it too. She was disappointed that so many had run from their responsibility. It was no surprise that Brick had gone, Cal too, blinded by his own self-righteousness. But she had wanted Daisy to stay. Of all of them – Schiller aside, of course – Daisy was closest to changing, to becoming what they were all destined to become.

Jade turned round. Her eyes were wide and wet, her copper-coloured hair like a pyre in the sunlight from the broken window. She was the kind of weak creature that Rilke would usually hate. But she had been chosen too. She was her sister now, as much as Schiller was her brother.

‘What are we, Rilke?’ Jade asked.

‘Angels,’ Rilke replied. Jade cocked her head, her mouth hanging open. It seemed an age before she spoke again.

‘How can that be?’

‘Because they have chosen us.’

Rilke could feel a force inside her stirring as she spoke. It was so small, now, but it would grow.

‘But
how
can it be?’ Jade said. ‘How is it possible?’

‘It doesn’t matter. I don’t think we’re supposed to know. The only thing that’s important is what we’re being asked to do.’

Schiller groaned. His left arm was hanging at a strange angle, it had been dislocated at the shoulder.
Don’t fight it, little brother
, she told him, knowing that the words would get through.
You’re going to be okay. Just don’t fight it
.

‘What are we being asked to do?’ said Marcus. A trickle of blood was winding down from his ear and he wiped it away with the back of his hand. ‘I saw it in my head, I think. I saw people, the ones that tried to kill me.’

‘They tried to kill you for a reason,’ said Rilke. ‘Because they know how dangerous you are.’

‘But why would angels want to hurt people?’ Jade said. She was glancing towards the door, frowning like she was stirring from a deep sleep. Now that Schiller had stilled, she seemed to be changing her mind. ‘They’re supposed to be good, aren’t they?’

Rilke spat out a laugh.

‘What do you think they are? Little cherubs with harps and halos? No. They’re soldiers. They are powerful, and they are cruel.’ She knew that much from church. ‘They can’t exist here by themselves, they’d burn right through the skin of reality. They need a host, a vessel. They need
us
.’

Marcus and Jade looked at each other. If they bolted now, Rilke decided, she’d shoot them both dead before they reached the door. How could they be so ignorant?

‘They’re cruel?’ said Marcus.

‘No, that’s the wrong word,’ Rilke said. ‘They’re not cruel. But they’re not kind either. They have no emotions. They are warriors. They have no love for us, they don’t feel anything at all. They have been sent here before, to destroy cities. They’ve killed thousands. If I had a Bible I’d show you, there’s proof. It says that the angels will cleanse the world of the wicked.’

Even as she spoke she knew the creature inside her was nothing to do with the Bible. It was much, much older than any human stories. Rilke could feel the weight of its age on her soul. But they must have been here before, they must have
inspired
those stories.

‘That’s our job?’ Jade said, shaking her head. ‘Killing people? It doesn’t feel right.’

‘Just the bad ones. Don’t you see? The world is a horrible place. People do terrible things to each other all the time. Would it be such a bad thing to purge all that . . . that rot?’

As she said it, a sudden doubt took hold of her. She thought back to what she’d seen with Daisy, the man in the storm that hung over the street and howled, which sucked in all that was warm and light and which spat out only absence. If they were angels, then what had that thing been? One of them?

No, not one of us, it isn’t one of us. That thing is the opposite of us, it’s here to destroy everything. We have to fight it, we have to fight it
. The words in her head were not hers, and she pushed them away. She had to believe that what she was doing was right. If she didn’t believe it, then she was lost.

‘You’ll see,’ she said. ‘You won’t doubt me for much longer.’

None of them would. Something incredible was going to happen – even more incredible than Schiller’s transformation – she could feel it the same way she could feel the tickle of a sneeze. She didn’t know what, but it would involve fire. She wasn’t sure if that premonition had been hers or Daisy’s, but it was inevitable. There would be fire, and they would see the truth.

And she knew what she had to do to make it happen.

‘I need a phone,’ she said. ‘Do either of you have one?’

‘Battery’s dead,’ said Jade. Marcus fished his from his jeans and examined it.

‘Why d’you want it?’ he said.

‘Trust me.’

He obviously did because he handed it to her.

‘They’re going to the factory, aren’t they?’ Rilke asked. ‘To look for food.’

Jade nodded, her expression uncertain.

Rilke dialled 999 and lifted it to her ear. Daisy and the others would soon understand exactly what they had to do – if they survived, that was. There was a click, then a voice asking her which emergency service she required.

‘All of them,’ she said, smiling. ‘I think there’s going to be a terrorist attack.’