by Anna Day
He pulls open the door and begins to march down the street.
‘Where are we going?’ I ask, hurrying after him.
‘I think better when I move.’
I struggle to keep up. ‘Thanks for saving me back at the station.’
‘Shooting Howard, you mean? I did it without thinking to be honest. I probably just signed my own death warrant – no side will want me now.’
‘That’s not true. Willow and Ash know you saved me, and they’ll keep everything from Thorn. I know they will.’
‘Do they know I killed Baba?’ A strangled look of grief and guilt hangs on his face. And it’s just not fair he should carry this burden. I wasn’t going to tell him, but now, striding down this knackered old street, I know that I will.
‘There are forces at work here beyond your control, Nate. Someone is inside your head, and they’re making you do things.’
‘A telepath, you mean? Someone like Baba?’
‘Something like that. It’s impossible to explain. But you are stronger than they are. I know you are, because I know you. You must fight back. Bloody balls of steel.’
He looks confused. ‘Balls of steel?’ he whispers.
I nod, a laugh catching in my throat. ‘Yes. That’s right. Balls of steel.’
‘I’ve heard that somewhere before.’
‘That’s right,’ I say. ‘Balls of steel. Like Katniss. Like Tris.’
‘I have no idea what you’re taking about right now, you know that, yeah?’
I laugh. ‘Yeah.’
He stops walking and looks at me. And then, totally unexpectedly, says, ‘Are you really my sister?’
I nod. ‘Yeah. Baba reached out to me in my dreams. She told me about you, about how you needed my help. You’re the real reason I came here.’
He turns away without replying, and we continue to walk until we approach a break in the buildings. An expanse of rubble stretches before us, penned in by a low, uneven wall. I can tell it used to be a building, a large one. Nate climbs on to a higher part of the wall and reaches down to pull me up. I scrabble up the stone until I’m stood beside him.
‘Come on,’ he says. ‘The view gets loads better, I promise.’
I follow him as we walk across the top of the wall, picking our way across the lumps and dips, the stone releasing particles beneath our feet. Finally, we reach a spot several metres above the ground. The sudden fear of falling causes my head to swim, and I find my hands reaching for Nate’s arm. To steady myself, to steady him.
‘Look,’ Nate says, gesturing below.
I look down. The rubble forms the shape of a giant cross.
‘It must have been a church,’ I reply. ‘A cathedral judging by the size of it.’ I notice the outline of a broken circle right in the centre. It used to be St Paul’s. I stare into the sky where the dome used to hang, and I suddenly feel very, very hopeless. If St Paul’s couldn’t survive the Gems, how the hell can we?
‘We used to have hope,’ Nate says. ‘God, Buddha, Allah, Krishna . . . all different names for the same thing – hope. What have we got now?’
I take his hand in mine. ‘We’ve got each other.’
‘Not for long. Without that serum, we’ll both die tomorrow.’
‘Can’t we just fetch the canister and disable it?’
He shakes his head. ‘There’s loads of them all over the country, all designed to go off at exactly the same time. I only know where the London one is.’
We sit on the wall and gaze across the scrappy rooftops of Imp London, the ruins of St Paul’s at our feet. A cloud of birds passes overhead, the throng of crescent silhouettes dark against the clouds. ‘Swallows,’ Nate whispers. And as he watches them, a smile creeps across his face. ‘I’ve just had an idea,’ he says, clutching my hand.
‘What?’
‘We don’t need a serum, we need an antidote. Then we can save all the Imps. I can retrieve the canister and get a sample of the virus. If I can get it back to my lab, I may be able to figure it out.’
‘Isn’t that dangerous?’
‘Yes, but we’re going to die anyway,’ he laughs manically.
‘Do you think you can do it today?’ I ask, because as soon as that antidote is made, the story will end and we can go home. Then Nate will wake up before his life support is switched off.
Nate nods. ‘For sure.’ His tawny eyes are alive with life and for the first time since arriving in this world, I truly see him: the boy from my childhood.
My little brother.
ALICE
I remember Russell’s stupid comment about wearing something lovely. It makes me want to pull on my jeans and my sloppy Hogwarts sweater. But I need to help my friends. So I choose my outfit carefully; only twenty per cent of sweet talking is done with the mouth, after all. Normally I would choose red, but it’s the last colour I want to wear after the mirror message. So instead, I pick out a sky-blue dress.
All the time, I’m thinking about that horrible text and the writing on my mirror. Strange how both things happened just after I posted on Fandom Rising. I get this horrible squirmy feeling in my gut, like I’ve eaten a bad piece of sushi. What if it’s Fanboy? What if he’s taking the fanfic war way too seriously? I tell myself I’m being silly. But who else could it be? Well, I’ve just posted another story. Let’s see if anything happens.
I told Russell I’d make my own way to the restaurant. Something about handing out my address made me feel nervous. And having myself delivered to him like some sort of present just didn’t sit right. Also, I want to call by Danny’s house on the way. It’s only a bit of a detour and I want to tell him I’m glad he was jealous. You see, I’m starting to rethink that done-with-men thing, now that I know there are men like Danny in the world.
Danny’s mum opens the door. Her face lights up when she sees me. ‘Alice, you look beautiful. Are you and Danny off on a date?’
I shake my head, a little awkwardly. ‘Uh, no. I just wanted to talk to him quickly if that’s OK?’
‘Yeah, course it is. He’s just popped to the shops to grab some milk, but he’ll only be a few minutes. Come on in.’
She gestures for me to sit on the sofa.
‘Cuppa?’ she asks.
I nod. ‘That would be lovely, thanks.’
‘We’ll have to wait for the milk, but I’ll boil the kettle,’ she says as she disappears into the kitchen.
I’m left on my own in the sitting room. Just me and a load of family photos. I stand from the sofa and move to the mantelpiece. There’s one of Danny when he was a baby. Christ, he was cute. Danny when he lost his first tooth (not just a piece of painted sweetcorn). A photo of him with his brother, dressed in matching outfits. A photo of Danny holding the science prize at school, looking ganglier than I remember. And a recent photo of Danny and his mum hugging, taken at a restaurant by the looks of it. I can’t help but imagine a photo of me and Danny, holding hands, maybe going to a convention or something. What is wrong with me?
I move across to the sideboard to check out more of the Danny snaps, when I notice his rucksack slung on the floor. A piece of paper sticks out from it. I can just make out a face . . . Violet’s face. My head begins to buzz with nerves. I slide the rest of the paper out. It’s another photo, but not of cute babies or science prizes. It’s a photo of me, Katie and Violet, cut from our last school yearbook.
At least, I’m guessing it’s me.
My face has been scratched clean away.
A flash of horror, my legs almost giving way as if the bones have been removed.
Could Danny be sending me the threats? Surely not. All the way over here I’d convinced myself it was Fanboy.
A sinking feeling fills my chest.
Could Danny be Fanboy?
Has he been playing me the whole time?
I hurtle out of his house still clutching the photo. I’m such a fucking idiot. Have I seriously just fallen for my stalker? Tears are gathering in my eyes and it feels like my legs are ab
out to give way. I round on to the street and run straight into him.
The milk goes flying, the bottle splits and white globs spray all over the pavement.
‘Bollocks,’ he says.
He sees the photo in my hand before I can hide it. ‘Alice . . .’
‘Was it you?’ I say, my voice shaking.
His brown eyes widen, his palms stretch towards me. ‘No, of course not.’
‘Then why have you got this photo?’
He gently prises it from my fingers. ‘I found it, stuffed through the letterbox when I left your house this morning. I didn’t want to scare you, but I didn’t want to leave you, so I hung around for a while, made sure no one was watching the house. I was going to tell you, to try and convince you to ring the police, but I thought I’d wait till after your date with Russell.’
‘Why?’
‘I dunno, I thought you deserved a night off.’
Can someone really be that good? I shake my head at him slowly, my breathing beginning to slow. ‘So . . .’
‘So . . . you need to tell me what’s going on. The fanfic, the stalker, the police. Everything.’
We sit on the wall outside his house, watching the kids in the playground across the street. He’s right, I need to tell him what’s going on. But first, I need to apologize face-to-face for using his tragedy on Fandom Rising. ‘Look, I’m so sorry about that post. I didn’t even think about how it would affect you at the time. It was stupid and dumb, I’m really sorry.’
He nods. ‘Thanks. I know you’ve got a lot going on right now, but I wanted you to know it wasn’t cool.’
‘Agreed.’
‘OK. Don’t think you can dodge the obvious.’
I keep my gaze fixed on the kids in the playground. Maybe if I don’t see his reaction to what I’m about to say, it will be easier. I take a deep breath. ‘This is going to sound crazy. I didn’t believe it myself. But last year, when Violet, Katie, Nate and I were in comas, we were transported into The Gallows Dance.’
I wait for him to laugh, and when he doesn’t, I risk glancing at him. He just blinks a few times like he’s trying to make sense of it. ‘Transported where?’ he finally says.
‘Into The Gallows Dance. Into an alternate universe where The Gallows Dance is real.’
‘OK,’ he says. His voice is a mix of confusion and disbelief.
‘Violet, Katie and I woke up, but Nate got stuck there.’ There’s a long pause. ‘He got shot when he was over there. Anyway, Violet and Katie are trying to get him back, but the problem is, Fanboy is ballsing everything up. He’s writing Nate bad and making it really dangerous for them, releasing a virus which will kill them all. That’s why I wanted to track Fanboy down and why I went with your idea to start Fandom Rising, to try and help Violet and Katie. Does that make sense?’
He has this startled rabbit look. He shakes his head slowly.
I look back to the playground. I wish I was six again, on the swings with Violet and Nate. ‘That’s why I need to find Fanboy, to stop him messing with their universe and to give them a fighting chance. I think it’s Fanboy who’s stalking me. It’s just a sick ratings game to him – he has no idea what he’s doing.’
There’s a really long pause. His lovely face is creased with concern and disbelief. He runs his fingers anxiously through his dark curls.
‘Danny?’ I finally say. ‘You think I’m mad, don’t you?’
He bites his lip, the skin around his teeth whitening from the pressure. He’s looking at me differently. Suspiciously. ‘Alice, did you assault Violet?’
‘What?’
‘I need to know, did you assault Violet at the hospital?’
I can feel the panic starting to take hold of my lungs. I want to tell him. But I hear myself saying, ‘No, of course I didn’t. She’s my best friend and she’s unconscious. I mean, what kind of sick bastard does that?’
He looks relieved for a moment, but his face tightens again. ‘The same sick bastard who leaves messages on your mirror and defaces your yearbook photo.’
I swallow down the guilt. ‘Yeah,’ I say. ‘That would make sense.’
‘You need to tell the police about the stalker, Alice. You need to tell them about Fanboy. He’s dangerous.’
My phone buzzes.
Beautiful, where are you? x
‘Shit,’ I mumble, scrambling down from the wall. ‘I need to go. I’ll tell the police, I promise, just in my own time, yeah?’
‘Are you seriously still meeting Russell, after everything that’s happened?’
‘I’ve got to,’ I reply.
He doesn’t look very convinced.
26
ALICE
I meet Russell at a bar called the Willow Tree. Jesus, he really is nothing without his screen persona. He sits at a round table in the centre of the room. He looks seriously hot, his white T-shirt pulled taut across his pecs, and I hate myself for noticing how ripped his arms look. He sees me and stands.
He kisses me on the cheek, his aftershave burning the inside of my nostrils. His hands slide around my waist and I have to stop myself from smacking them away. I haven’t been pawed by a guy in ages.
I sit opposite him and smile my best smile. ‘The Willow Tree, huh?’
‘Yeah,’ he says, pushing his hair from his eyes. ‘I thought you’d like it.’
‘I love it.’ I’m still smiling my best smile.
‘How are your friends?’ he asks.
I shrug, ordering my eyes to stay dry. ‘They’re still in comas, but they’re stable. I’m sure they’ll be fine.’
‘It’s weird though, another earth tremor at Comic-Con, your friends going into comas again. You should write about it on that fanfic site of yours, now that would really notch up the views.’
I stare at him in disbelief. How did I ever fancy this guy? ‘Erm, yeah, I guess,’ I manage to say.
A waitress approaches us. She looks at Russell and a grin spreads across her face. ‘Mr Jones, it’s so lovely to see you again. What can I get you tonight?’
He orders me a cocktail I’ve never heard of. I prickle at the fact he didn’t ask me what I wanted. The waitress beams at me like I’m the luckiest woman alive, having Russell decide what I’m drinking, then she leaves.
‘Thanks for helping out with Fandom Rising,’ I say.
He frowns. ‘With what?’
‘Fandom Rising,’ I repeat. ‘My fanfic site.’
‘Oh yeah, sure. That’s what friends are for.’ He clearly hasn’t read any of my posts. I didn’t really expect him to, but it still stings a little. ‘So where are you at with book number three?’ he asks.
Christ, he doesn’t hang around.
‘I’m thinking about it,’ I say, wanting to keep him on side. ‘Fandom Rising is really helping me get creative again. It’s actually honing some ideas, that’s why it’s so great you’re on board with it.’
He smiles at me. This is going really well; if he thinks my fanfic will help him land another movie role, he’ll publicize it no end. Fanboy doesn’t stand a chance.
Russell slides a tanned and perfect hand across the table and rests it on top of mine. ‘So tell me more about this fanfic site, Alice. What are you planning to write next?’
‘Well—’ I’m interrupted by my phone buzzing on the table. It’s face down, so I think maybe it’s a message from my stalker. Panic grips my insides. I wish that bloody cocktail would arrive so I could take the edge off.
‘Sorry,’ I mumble to Russell. ‘I better check it isn’t Timothy.’
Russell chuckles. ‘Never stand between a girl and her editor.’
Quickly, I check my phone.
But it isn’t the stalker. It’s Danny. And the message sends my heart spiralling out of control. No amount of alcohol could take the edge off this.
Russell is Fanboy! Get out of there!
VIOLET
Ash and Katie are just laying out dinner when we arrive back at Headquarters. The spread is small when compa
red to the body of the church – just a single pot of casserole and a loaf of bread – but the scent is huge, barely held by the stone walls. My mouth instantly fills with saliva. I haven’t eaten all day.
I quickly count four places, so I’m guessing Willow and Daisy aren’t joining us. I can’t help feeling a huge sense of relief that I won’t have to face Daisy. The guilt has been nibbling away at my insides. I know she and Ash weren’t in a relationship when I slept with him, but still, it was a bit of a sly move. And it does remind me of finding Alice in bed with Willow. How hurt I was, knowing she could betray me like that. And it makes me realize not just how Daisy might be feeling right now, but why Alice may have done what she did in the first place. Because she really did love Willow. Just like I love Ash.
Katie and Ash look up, and when they see me, their faces light up. Nate by my side, Katie and Ash smiling at me, food on the table . . . for a wonderful, fleeting second, everything feels good.
Ash jogs towards me and takes my hands in his. He leads me towards the table, as though there’s only us in the church, and Nate and Katie don’t exist. ‘I thought you’d be hungry,’ he says.
I reach the table, and Katie whispers in my ear, ‘What with all the humping.’
I can’t help but laugh.
‘I made bread,’ Katie says, pointing at a misshapen loaf on the table. ‘From scratch.’ She has a dusting of flour across her nose, which makes her look hilarious and adorable all at once.
‘She’s a natural,’ Ash says.
Katie laughs. ‘I just imagined the dough was Thorn’s face and twatted the hell out of it.’
Ash pulls out my chair for me and winks. I feel my cheeks flush, and I can’t help watch as he pulls off his jacket and his holster, resting them on the back of his chair.
‘We can eat later,’ I tell him. ‘First, we need to find the canister.’
‘Canister?’ Ash says.
‘I buried it beneath the church,’ Nate says, grabbing my hand and leading me towards a wooden door. ‘It’s going to release the Imp-targeting virus tomorrow. I’m going to see if I can make an antidote.’
Katie must drop a fork; the sound of metal hitting china resonates around the church like an alarm bell.