P.N.E. (The Wolfblood Prophecies Book 4)

by Silk, Avril

  Despite her bravado, Jo felt almost lightheaded with fear. She forced herself to sing, but a guard punched her in the face, knocking her off balance. ‘Shut it,’ he snarled. For a moment she blacked out.

  When she came to Titus Stigmurus had returned, his face grave. ‘They’ve taken the Shield,’ he reported.

  ‘What?!’ yelled the King and Queen in unison. ‘The Shield?’

  ‘That’s right,’ laughed Smokey. ‘We’ve won.’

  The nearest guard went to beat him but Titus bade him stop. Instead he approached the boy who had never known the identity of his true father and said, ‘You have indeed. I yield, Sir.’

  For a fleeting moment something strange passed between Titus and Smokey as they faced each other; a ghost of a memory, perhaps; maybe a sense of recognition that vanished like smoke.

  The moment passed. Lethe was beside herself with indignation. ‘Kill him!’ she screamed. Titus just looked at her and said, ‘There is no point, your Majesty. We’re all going to die.’

  Jo looked at Smokey in wonder. ‘What have you done?’

  The partygoers were slowly returning to the hall. Smokey savoured the moment and addressed the gathering. ‘All of your eyes were on this place tonight, which made it the perfect opportunity for Zebo and his Ferals to break into Titus’s laboratory. They’ve taken control of the nanites and given them new orders.’

  The King gasped with pain and looked at his hand. The skin was starting to blister and peel. Various moans and cries erupted from the XXXIX and their families as they too, started to burn.

  ‘Right now our new nanites are working their little robot socks off making the Underground into a habitable paradise. The explosions you heard were Righteous strikes against the Vermin. Brenda and her team will have liberated all of the workers by now and should be well on their way to shuttling them beneath the surface.’ As he spoke, red rainclouds gathered around the Roundhouse, striking the rooftop with hard rain and flashes of lightning.

  ‘Your shield is gone. The poisons it kept at bay are now working their way into your blood. And unlike the Righteous and the poor you’ve been using as slave labour, you have no immunities.’

  Jo found herself wondering if she had any immunity. Then she watched, appalled, as with a low moan, the Queen staggered and was sick. As she steadied her crown her beautiful hair came away in great tufts. From the wall, Quinn started to chuckle.

  ‘They can’t take the heat.’

  The radiation was slowly doing its work. Years of living in sheltered isolation had given the rich a false sense of security. Money had bought them power, and power had given them control. But no amount of money or power could save them now, and fear swept among them, as invisible as the nuclear contamination. Lesions and growths swiftly appeared across the faces of the Elite and many of them fell unconscious as others began vomiting uncontrollably. Even so, they were determined to deny their enemy any satisfaction. Jo watched in horror as Lord Oleander, cool and cruel to the last, took aim at Quinn.

  Then to her astonishment Jo thought she glimpsed a familiar figure pushing his way through the crowd – someone she had feared she would never see again. It was Matthew!

  Quinn looked at Ali one last time.

  ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t save you, babe. Would that I could. But at least we die together. I lo…’

  Ali howled out in anguish as Oleander shot Quinn dead. He turned and placed the gun to the back of Smokey’s head and pulled the trigger again.

  Jo felt her knees weaken as she and Ali were frog-marched through the crowd. As she passed Mirabel the old woman hissed, ’All that bleedin’ work wasted. Should have known you weren’t the real deal.’

  Lucy lurched up to her and spat in her face. Prince Hawk landed a spiteful kick, followed by a punch to her solar plexus that nearly winded her.

  Weeping softly, Sheraleen pushed through the crowd and tenderly wiped Jo’s face. Mirabel pulled her away roughly.

  Lord Oleander signalled the guards to stop. He came close enough to whisper lewdly in Jo’s ear. ‘Despite the considerable expense, I would have preferred deflowering you, ma chérie, but executions have their own unique, erotic charge. I anticipate your imminent death with exquisite pleasure tinged with just a scintilla of lustful regret.’ He drew Jo’s hand to his moist, red lips. She watched with horrified fascination as the radiation sickness crept across his skin.

  Nothing to lose, thought Jo. ‘Death probably trumps sex with you,’ she said and was pleased to see that her words had some sting, wiping the supercilious sneer from Lord Oleander’s lecherous, reptilian face. Ali caught the gist of what was happening, and to Jo’s immense satisfaction swung her chains and sent Oleander flying, blood and teeth spurting from his mouth. As the guards converged on Ali she shrugged theatrically. ‘So shoot me,’ she smiled, and Jo laughed out loud.

  And all the time Matthew was getting closer.

  Another tremendous burst of lightning struck the Roundhouse, causing great chunks of the ceiling to cave in. Many of the XXXIX and VMN were crushed by the debris. Titus looked to the sky above as his poison rain began to fall into the arena and he wept for all that he had done.

  Jo and Ali were bound and forced to kneel. They were offered hoods, but refused to wear them.

  Silence fell as the firing squad bowed, first to Lethe and Paul, then to the prisoners. At King Paul’s command, they took aim.

  Staring into the barrel of the gun that would kill her, Jo said quietly to Ali, ‘My mother is brave, like you. I wish we’d had more time together. Quinn loved you very much.’

  She wanted to say more but watched, transfixed, as King Paul fell to the floor, coughing up blood and clawing at his blood-red eyes. Lethe screamed as the red rain stripped away her soft, white skin. Around her the guards were all choking. Titus sank to his knees with solemnity and some shreds of dignity.

  Lord Oleander was slowly disintegrating, but with the last remaining vestige of his will, he gave the command to fire, his skin and bones crumbling and floating away on the contaminated air with his voice as he did.

  As the volley of shots rang out Jo saw Matthew charging the rifleman nearest to her, knocking his weapon, shouting, ‘Jo! Take my hand!’ In slow motion she saw Ali collapse, and felt herself falling forwards, desperately stretching her hand towards Matthew. As their fingers interlocked one of the VMN knocked Matthew unconscious. Agonising pain shot through Jo’s breast and everything went black.

  Jo came to in a mist. She floated. Nothing moved. She lay in a sea of tranquillity that lasted an eternity and she was at rest. And then the sea turned into a vast ocean and the waves gently lulled the planets into orbit around her and she lay there at one with the Universe as the seas and skies grew dark.

  And for the first time she could remember, Jo was able to relax her mind. Finally, she was at a place of peace. Eternal infinity stretched out before her as locked and knotted muscles grew heavier and heavier. She had been so swept up in the land of Bayne that she could hardly remember anything else.

  And then her eyes flashed open and she emped.

  Mum!

  Storms arose and lightning burst as whole worlds were levelled by turbulent oceans. Jo fought to pull herself free of the gravitational pull of an inner black hole. Entire continents were dragged to the surface on the planets below. The thrashing waves bore Jo away from the world she knew as home. Focussing her will she dragged her heart back to the present day. On the world around her, many and varied ancient forms of aquatic life were forced to experience oxygen for the very first time. And they died by the multitude as Jo’s healing lotus shone brightly to no effect.

  And everything died and the world grew still and in that infinite stillness, Everard Burnley whispered in Jo’s ear.

  ‘Got you.’

  ‘You stay AWAY from her!’ shrieked Crazy Em.

  The surprised Burnley was cast upon the horizon and shattered into dust. Shock returned stillness to the shattered tranquillity.

&nb
sp; ‘Sleep, child,’ said Em, softly.

  ‘Mary?’ came a voice.

  ‘Matthew? Is that you?’

  Chapter Twelve - The Elm Grove

  The pain was terrible. Someone was softly calling her name. ‘Open your eyes, Jo.’ She did, but she saw nothing. ‘I’m blind,’ she gasped in horror.

  ‘You’re not blind, Jo. It’s night-time,’ said Matthew gently. ‘You’ve been unconscious for hours. Do you feel up to talking yet?’

  ‘I’ll try.’ Jo struggled to sit up, but the exertion was very painful. ‘Why am I so sore?’

  ‘Can you remember anything that happened?’

  ‘There was a nuclear explosion,’ she began, stumbling over her words. ‘Some debris hit me in the chest…’ She looked confused. ‘No, that’s not right. hang on… Got it. There was a firing squad – you managed to knock the rifle – otherwise I’d be dead.’ Fragments of memories drifted through Jo’s mind. ‘But I did get shot! Is that what this bandage is for?’

  ‘You’ve got a nasty wound but, thank goodness, it’s stopped bleeding. Another couple of centimetres and we wouldn’t be talking now. Thank goodness, you’re going to be OK, Jo.’

  ‘Not if I’ve lost my mind! Why is everything such a jumble? There was an explosion. And there was a firing squad. Which of them caused this wound? And which is true?’

  ‘You won’t like the answer, Jo. It’s both.’

  Jo stared at him for a moment. ‘You’re right about that. I don’t like the answer.’

  ‘We’ve been dream-travelling, Jo, to alternative realities.’

  ‘From our real reality, right?’ said Jo, struggling to make sense of it all.

  ‘From the reality that seems most real to us, yes. But we were separated, and I’ve been searching for you for ages. Where on earth have you been?’

  ‘A terrible city – Bayne. I was in a Deep Level Shelter. Again.’

  ‘Ah! That would explain it. Harder to connect if one of you is dreaming deep underground.’

  ‘Not like emping, then.’ Matthew looked puzzled. ‘Emping’s usually better the further down I go,’ observed Jo. ‘But in that horrible reality I had hardly any powers underground. I really missed emping!’

  ‘I was beginning to lose hope of making contact with you, then there were a few moments tonight when I was finally able to locate you.’

  ‘So these other realities – Ali getting shot, for example - are they real?’

  Matthew pondered his reply. ‘Define real,’ he said eventually.

  Jo looked exasperated. ‘Is this place real? Where are we? Or should I say, when are we? ’

  ‘Well, I’m hoping it’s 1964, and that tomorrow is Midsummer’s Eve. As to the where - we’re in the elm grove close to where I found you just before the Borax-III reactor explosion happened. It’s been seven years since the so-called Peaceful Nuclear Explosion, and the site has been cleared and declared safe. Mind you, their idea of making it safe was to put six inches of gravel on top of the contaminated soil. Gradually the grass returned, and sage bushes took root.’

  ‘And Titus created The Lost Funfair of Forgotten Dreams.’

  ‘Yes – with the highly dubious Colonel Slaughter. I always thought it was a rather frivolous venture for Titus. Perhaps it was a diversion from his main work.’

  ‘You mean consummate evil and world domination?’

  Matthew smiled. ‘You might find it hard to believe, but many see him as a great philanthropist and an astute business man. Not all of Stigmurus Enterprises was destroyed. He salvaged what he could then added an international study centre here, with lecture rooms, a library and laboratories… my university is twinned with it. Much valuable work is done here.’ He looked around, his face pensive. ‘But it was a massive explosion; it’s amazing that these trees are still standing.’ He broke off as Jo lurched to her feet. ‘Hey! What are you doing? You need to rest!’

  Jo was scrabbling in the earth under the tallest tree. ‘It’s here somewhere – I have to find it… make things right again…’

  ‘Dear girl, what are you talking about?’ A bewildered Matthew placed his hand lightly on Jo’s forehead. ‘Perhaps you are running a fever…’

  ‘Got it!’ Jo’s voice was triumphant as she pulled a parcel out of the soil.

  ‘Is that an old radiation suit?’ asked Matthew. ‘Why ever would you bury one of those?’

  ‘I used it to wrap this,’ said Jo, showing Matthew the precious copy of The Whale. She gave him a brief explanation. ‘I buried this book to stop Aunt Lethe giving it to Dad, so they wouldn’t have a – you know – thingy.’ She coughed awkwardly. ‘Instead I altered the whole future. That’s why that world was so dreadful. It’s all my fault. I ruined everything.’

  Matthew was unconvinced. To Jo’s chagrin, he was smiling slightly. ‘I rather doubt that. Personally I think when it came to creating global catastrophe a lot of other people were more culpable than a teenage girl. Even one as remarkable as you.’

  Jo wasn’t sure whether to feel relieved or insulted. On the one hand, she didn’t want the burden of responsibility for all that had happened; on the other a small part of her had seen the attraction of power, even the destructive kind.

  Matthew watched as Jo struggled with her thoughts. ‘I think we should both try and get some sleep – who knows what the morning will bring!’

  ‘If we sleep,’ said Jo, ‘can we just dream our way home again?’ Her voice cracked on the word home. She tried to make light of it. ‘Wherever home is!’

  Matthew was quiet for a moment. When he eventually spoke his voice was solemn. ‘I promise we will go home soon, Jo, but I brought us here for a reason – there’s something I urgently need to do.’

  Jo studied his face carefully. She saw her old friend through new eyes, because she now had an image of him when he was a young man. She glimpsed a steely determination. ‘Are you going to try and change the future, Matthew?’

  ‘Something like that.’

  Now Jo’s voice trembled, and tears sprang to her eyes. ‘In that case, please try to make my mother better.’

  ‘I wish I could, Jo. All I can say is, it might happen. But no promises. Now, it’s going to get chilly, so snuggle under my coat and dream beautiful dreams!’

  Whatever dreams came to Jo were rudely shattered, very early in the morning, by the sound of helicopters overhead and lorries trundling past the elm grove to the fairground. There was a great deal of hammering and cussing going on.

  ‘Hey, brother! Stop sweet-talking Magnolia and get your sorry ass down here! These posters ain’t gonna nail themselves to these trees!’

  Jo felt as if she’d been punched in the solar plexus. She’d hoped never to hear that voice again. Crow, an outlaw from Grey Wolf’s Itázipčhotribe, was cruel and ruthless. His voice brought her out in a cold sweat, made more intense when she heard who replied to Crow.

  ‘You’re just jealous, boy, ‘cos I’ve got myself a real woman and three beautiful babies – and all you gets is leftovers!’

  The speaker, Billy Joe Thunder, sounded so good-natured that for a moment Jo wondered if this could possibly be the half-crazy old outlaw she remembered. Fifteen years into the future from now she had travelled to the derelict and deserted Lost Funfair of Forgotten Dreams, trying to rescue Smokey, who was imprisoned in the Mirror Maze. Billy Joe and his gang had terrified her.

  ‘He sounds so happy now,’ said Matthew quietly. ‘But it won’t be long before tragedy breaks his heart and turns his mind.’

  ‘I remember,’ said Jo sadly. ‘Lily, Rosie and Daisy. They were electrocuted – on the merry-go-round.’ She winced at the incongruity. ‘A terrible accident.’

  ‘Not everyone thought it was an accident,’ said Matthew. ‘Sabotage was suspected, but it was never proved. To her dying day Magnolia claimed her girls were murdered by Colonel Dwayne Slaughter. He hated the Indians and didn’t bother to hide it.’

  Jo remembered Dwayne’s grandson Nick, who had grown up seething
with the same hatred. Jo didn’t like Nick, but he had not deserved to die as he did - a terrible death at the hands of Billy Joe Thunder and his gang. Jo shivered.

  ‘What happened to Magnolia?’

  ‘She never recovered. Grey Wolf and Summer Moon did all they could to help, along with the rest of the tribe, but after she died Billy Joe just sank deeper and deeper into drink and violence. In the end Grey Wolf had no choice but to banish him.’

  Jo sighed. ‘Poor man. Is that why the funfair shut down?’

  ‘Yes. People just stopped coming. The place was abandoned and left to rot.’

  ‘Some of it was still working when we went,’ said Jo. ‘The Tunnel of Love was in perfect working order…’ She couldn’t help it; she blushed at the memory of riding in a golden gondola with Smokey. And Beth and Hawk. How she wished it had just been her and Smokey.

  Matthew noticed the blush, but resisted teasing Jo. He had romantic memories of his own, but he kept them to himself.

  ‘I’m pretty sure Titus and Lethe have kept their secret laboratories going, though,’ continued Jo. ‘When we were in the tunnel Hawk found this place underground where Titus was mucking about with the weather. Putting drugs into the rain, and stuff. And when the Mirror Maze collapsed I thought I saw a doorway behind the glass, but there wasn’t exactly time to check it out, what with Lethe and Billy Joe on the warpath...’

  ‘So the funfair was more than just a frivolous distraction after all,’ mused Matthew. ‘I wonder what else lies hidden behind the façade. I had my suspicions…’

  ‘Is that why you’ve come here? To undo some terrible thing Lethe and Titus started in the laboratories?’

  ‘Not exactly. It’s more of a personal matter…’ and now it was Matthew’s turn to blush. Jo gave him a quizzical look but he was spared further explanations, as they heard someone coming towards them through the trees. ‘Quick! Behind the bushes,’ he whispered, and they darted for cover.