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Cat's Paw

Page 21

by Nick Green


  Ben gave a shaky laugh. ‘Do you hear me complaining?’

  Tiffany helped him up off his knees. He sucked at his grazed fingers and gave her a strange look. Then his old mischievous grin flashed out. It amazed her, like some fragile ornament left intact after an earthquake.

  ‘I see you tracked her down.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Nice one.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘No, really. That was not bad.’ And he hugged her. It was almost as if he’d lost his balance and had to lean on her a moment, for he stepped back just as quickly and examined his grazed hands. But a hug it definitely was.

  The sky behind him was lighter, showing up his split lip and a cut on his temple. ‘You’re hurt.’

  ‘Hadn’t noticed.’ He tried another smile and winced. ‘Look’s like someone’s been hitting you too. Where is he? I’ll kill him.’

  ‘He’s gone,’ Daniel called. ‘They’re all gone.’

  Susie and Cecile appeared in the hollow hall.

  ‘They’ve skedaddled, one and all,’ crowed Susie. ‘We scared them out of their mangy skins.’

  ‘We didn’t scare them,’ said Ben. ‘It’s because they’re not scared anymore. They only stayed together ’cos they were terrified of Fisher. Now he’s gone.’ He rubbed his eyes and yawned. ‘Let them go.’

  ‘And we should be gone,’ said Mrs Powell. ‘Before daybreak.’

  Cecile beamed. ‘Hallelujah.’

  Tiffany said, ‘I’ll round up the troops.’

  Seeing Ben safe had made everyone a bit wild. Yusuf and Geoff had rushed back to chase the polecats from the roof, and Olly, of all people, was so fired-up that he’d joined in. Searching for them up the stairs, Tiffany met Geoff hurrying down. He had cleaned the blood off his face and seemed to have recovered from his duel.

  ‘Hey, well done,’ he said.

  ‘Oh,’ she shrugged. ‘I didn’t do much.’ She paused. ‘Geoff. I’m sorry.’

  ‘Sorry? What for?’

  ‘All that stuff before. I didn’t much like it when you took over the class. And it stopped me liking you.’

  ‘It’s okay. I’ve had worse.’

  ‘Well anyway.’ She was blushing. ‘I hope you stick around. Stay with us a bit. You will stay, won’t you? You’re a great teacher.’

  ‘Aw.’ Geoff waved her away. ‘You’re forgetting about the real hero.’

  ‘I know. Ben was incredible. The way he –’

  ‘I’m talking about you,’ said Geoff. ‘You did what I could never have done. You found Felicity and brought her back to me. Thank you.’

  ‘You mean that?’

  ‘I do.’ Geoff moved past her, seeming fidgety. ‘What a night. Nearly over though.’

  ‘Nearly?’

  ‘Some of those polecats ran off with their bags of explosive. I doubt they’ll do much with it now, but I’d better catch them just to be safe.’

  Exhausted as she was, Tiffany said, ‘I’ll come.’

  ‘No need,’ said Geoff. ‘You get some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow. Today. Ah, whatever.’

  He was gone. Tiffany mounted the stairs to the roof. It was deserted now and, in this space before dawn, as silent as London could be. Nothing stirred between here and the clouds, except for the flicker of two cast-off polecat bandanas, dancing in the wind. One side of the sky had a polished look, with a light band on the black horizon that reminded her of cream on coffee. Mm, coffee would be nice.

  She headed back down. ‘Yusuf? Olly?’ On the seventeenth floor she met the others. ‘Is Olly with you?’

  ‘Na,’ said Daniel. ‘Did you check up there?’

  ‘I reckon they’ll be down in the lobby,’ said Susie.

  ‘Ssshh!’ Cecile’s head flicked round. Mrs Powell pushed past, crossing into the next apartment. They trailed after her, mystified. A pained sound, a sigh or a groan, drew Tiffany to the farthest room. Mrs Powell was kneeling by two bodies. Olly lay curled up, bleeding from his head. Yusuf sprawled with his left leg at a sickening angle. Susie squealed.

  ‘What happened?’ cried Tiffany.

  Mrs Powell checked that both were breathing. She adjusted Yusuf’s head and he gurgled. The other Cat Kin crowded round. Olly moaned. Mrs Powell bent over him and a purr rumbled in her chest. He opened his eyes.

  ‘No! Please–’

  ‘Ssh. You’re safe.’ Mrs Powell purred some more and Olly’s breathing steadied.

  ‘It’s okay, Ol.’ Ben touched his arm. ‘Can you talk?’

  Olly began to shake as if very cold. At first his teeth juddered too much. Then he murmured, ‘It was him.’

  The chill entered Tiffany’s heart. She saw Ben pale under his cat-paint. It was him. Martin Fisher had survived, somehow he’d survived, he had fallen twenty storeys and still he lived. They were fools to think he’d die that easily. And now he was in this building, hunting them down, and Geoff wasn’t here to protect them anymore.

  Olly seemed to read the fear in her face. He tried to sit up.

  ‘No, no,’ he gasped. ‘Not Fisher. It wasn’t Fisher.’

  A quiet voice spoke.

  ‘Felicity.’

  Mrs Powell sprang up. Tiffany ran with her to the window. Far below stood a man beneath a lamp post. At his feet lay two cables. He stooped and picked them up. One of them was orange with a stout shiny muzzle.

  ‘Hi,’ said Geoff. Even seventeen floors below, his voice was crystal clear. ‘Felicity, you remember how I told you I can never forget, but I can forgive? I said I can, Felicity. I never said I do.’

  Ben laughed dutifully. This was clearly some private joke he was too sleepy and sore to get. Did Tiffany get it? Her face was a puzzle. She was about to laugh… or cry… or scream… or be sick. But why? Mrs Powell seemed as baffled as him.

  ‘Geoffrey? I don’t understand. What are you doing?’

  ‘Ask your little lap-cat. Ask her what these wires are.’

  ‘It’s…’ Tiffany’s lip was red where she’d bitten it, she was shaking her head. She blurted, ‘Geoff said he ran a cable from a lamp post. That he could plug into the detonator. To blow up this tower and stop Fisher. But– but–’

  ‘Spot on,’ said Geoff. ‘And I’m hardly going to let my handiwork go to waste. Am I, Felicity?’ These words were a shout of rage.

  Mrs Powell whispered.

  ‘Tiffany. You and the others help these two downstairs. Get out of the building. I’ll keep him talking.’

  ‘We can’t–’ Tiffany began.

  ‘Oh, you’ll keep me talking. Great plan. You stupid woman, you think I can’t hear you? Anyone tries to leave…’ Geoff motioned with the two cables as if to join them together.

  ‘Stop!’ cried Ben. His mind was collapsing. ‘What is this? Can’t anyone tell me what’s going on?’

  Geoff lowered the cables. ‘Ah, of course. No-one’s told you, have they, Ben? What a pity. To you, she’s still the flawless, fabulous teacher of ancient wisdom. Not someone who’d kill an unborn child. My child.’

  ‘You arrogant fool,’ said Mrs Powell. ‘You think it was easy for me?’

  ‘He was my son!’ Geoff roared. ‘Mine! And you murdered him!’

  ‘Keep your voice down. People are sleeping.’

  ‘I’m glad you find it funny. Since you enjoy killing children, look around you. Your adoring pupils will die now and it will be your fault. You’ll be buried together under tonnes of rubble, their eyes will be the last thing you see, the last thing you hear will be their screams, as they curse you, hating you, as you die knowing what you’ve done. Do you hate her, kids? Do you hate her now?’

  ‘Go to hell,’ sobbed Tiffany.

  Olly was pushing at Daniel and Cecile. ‘Please. Get away. Leave me.’

  ‘Are you speaking for Yusuf too?’ snapped Mrs Powell. ‘Your friends are taking you out of here. At once.’

  ‘But–’ cried Tiffany.

  ‘Do as I say!’

  ‘You’ll never reach the door,’ said Geoff. He
lifted the cable that ran from the lamp post. He lifted the orange cord that coiled towards the tower. Ben couldn’t move from the window. His understanding grew like a thorn, tearing him inside. This was not just some silly mistake.

  ‘Geoff. Please. This isn’t you. I know it’s not.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Ben,’ said Geoff. ‘For you, I am.’

  ‘You stopped Fisher. We helped you. You saved my life. You wouldn’t do this, you can’t.’

  ‘I’m sorry you got caught up in this, Ben. Thanks for your help.’

  Geoff plugged the two cables together.

  Somewhere a bird twittered. Nothing else happened.

  He pulled the leads apart and reconnected them. Still nothing happened.

  Mrs Powell called down. ‘Technical problems?’

  Geoff blinked hard at the tower block as if he couldn’t believe it was still there. He stared up and around. For the first time he noticed – Ben noticed – they all noticed – that the street light trailing the electric cable wasn’t actually lit.

  ‘What the–?’

  ‘Oh dear,’ said Mrs Powell. ‘Is that one broken? Maybe you could phone the Council.’

  ‘Set!’ Geoff cursed.

  ‘Isn’t sabotage a lovely word?’

  ‘She broke it.’ Tiffany’s face shone with wonder. ‘That’s what she was doing, all that time. She found his trap and she broke it!’

  ‘Mrs Powell, you rock!’ cried Daniel.

  Far below Geoff whirled to and fro, as if trying to guess how quickly he could wire the connected cords to another street light. The stupidity of it struck him almost at once and he flung the useless cable to the ground.

  ‘Fine. You missed your chance of a quick death, Felicity. I’ll do this the old fashioned way.’

  He ran towards the tower. His light steps skittered across the paving stones, fading to silence before rising again, echoing in the stairwell.

  ‘He’s coming up,’ said Cecile.

  ‘I’ve changed my mind, get us out of here,’ groaned Olly.

  ‘They will,’ said Mrs Powell. ‘Everyone, ready. You take Olly and Yusuf when I say.’

  Tiffany clutched at her. ‘What about you?’

  Mrs Powell gently extracted herself and pulled Ben alongside. Ben felt her green eyes searching inside him.

  ‘Now you listen. As you’ve never listened before. From this moment on, when I speak, you must obey. You really must. Trust me now, if you never trust anyone again.’

  ‘Aren’t you coming with us?’ Tiffany pleaded.

  ‘No, and here’s why,’ said Mrs Powell. The footsteps on the stairs were now very close. ‘Geoff isn’t content just to kill me. He could have done that already. No, he wants me to watch you die first. That’s his real revenge.’

  ‘I won’t let you face him alone.’

  ‘You have to, Tiffany. As long as we stay together we are all in mortal danger. Me, you, your friends. But if we can stay apart, he won’t kill me. He couldn’t bear to. Killing only me would be failure. Tiffany, to keep me safe, you must desert me.’

  ‘We understand,’ said Ben. He turned Tiffany towards him by the shoulder. ‘You always told me to trust her. And you’re always right.’

  A shout sent a buzzing echo through the walls.

  ‘Felicity!’

  ‘I can give you one chance,’ said Mrs Powell.

  Ben and Tiffany bore up Yusuf under the arms. His head lolled. He whimpered in pain as Susie tried to support his broken leg. Daniel and Cecile helped Olly to stand.

  Geoff blocked the doorway. He glared at Mrs Powell.

  ‘You knew.’

  ‘No. I suspected.’

  ‘How?’

  ‘When I saved you from that arrow. You were surprised.’

  ‘That’s all?’

  ‘Not quite.’ Mrs Powell glanced from Geoff to Tiffany and back again. ‘Love and hate can look so similar, until you see them side by side.’

  ‘Nice. I’ll scratch that on your gravestone.’ He shifted his weight into Arch on Guard.

  ‘Geoff,’ said Mrs Powell, ‘hear me. Even now you and I could be friends. Unlike you I can forgive. And I do. But if you move again to harm me or my children, then I swear by Ra I will kill you.’

  The hairs rose on Ben’s neck. It was coming. Geoff peered around the room in mock fright.

  ‘And your trained attack panthers are… where, exactly?’

  He stepped forward.

  Ptah. The noise cracked out. Geoff blinked and Mrs Powell was on him. Her fists rammed into his chest and drove him away from the exit.

  ‘Go,’ she cried.

  Terrified that Tiffany might not obey, Ben heaved his heavy burden forward, leaving her no choice but to help him drag Yusuf to the stairs. Olly managed to stumble along between Daniel and Cecile, but Yusuf gasped and cried out with every jolting step. His sweat mingled into Ben’s already soaked pashki kit.

  ‘What is she doing, fighting him?’ Susie wailed. ‘She can’t fight him!’

  ‘We’ll get these two out,’ panted Ben. ‘And then. I’ll go. Help.’

  ‘No.’ Tiffany spoke through clenched teeth. ‘She told us. You heard. If he catches us with her, she’s dead.’

  Yusuf’s weight was nearly breaking his back. Ben focused on that, trying to blot out the noises from above. Something was being hit over and over. Walls shuddered. Snarls, curses and half-human shrieks blurred into one banshee howl. A war, that’s what it sounded like – a war of giant cats. And a war that could have only one winner. Even if she’d been in the prime of her life, Mrs Powell was no match for Geoff White. Her long years of learning counted for nothing. It didn’t matter that she had the sinews of a tennis racket, that old age hadn’t dulled her speed nor rusted her iron strength. Geoff had everything she had and more, reinforced by the mind of a warrior and razor claws.

  The first dawn light peeped through the fifth floor landing window, making Ben’s shadow loom over him accusingly. A terrible cry floated down, a woman’s scream of pain. Tiffany flung Yusuf’s arm onto Cecile’s shoulder.

  ‘Stuff this!’

  ‘No,’ Ben protested, ‘you said… she told us to–’

  ‘Since when do we do as we’re told?’ Tiffany doubled back, tearing up the staircase. Ben pushed his half of Yusuf towards Daniel.

  ‘Call an ambulance.’ He threw himself after Tiffany, taking the first flight in one bound. Sparing a final glance down at his friends he saw their eyes cast up at him in horror. He hesitated. ‘Better make it two.’

  Catras Ailur, Parda and Ptep cracked together, powering him to top speed, yet still he was trailing when he reached the seventeenth floor. His ears immediately told him that the battle had moved higher. He yelled Tiffany’s name and heard her shout.

  ‘The roof!’

  Ben burst from the rooftop cabin into the wind. The sky was brighter, the torn clouds catching fire, and fairy chains of streetlights broke as more of their number went dark with the dawn. Colours seeped from the darkness as from ink on wet paper.

  A screech of agony paralysed him. He saw Mrs Powell fall against the guard rail, Geoff pouncing to pin her down, drawing back his right hand with the fingers wickedly hooked. Tiffany crashed into him from behind.

  ‘Get off her!’

  Mrs Powell gave a cry of dismay.

  ‘No, Tiffany! Get away. You can’t be here. You can’t–’

  Tiffany hung round Geoff’s neck like a lioness.

  ‘Get off her! Get off.’

  Her claws scrabbled for his eyes. Geoff threw his weight backwards, crushing her under him, breaking her hold. He flipped over and dealt three slashing blows before Ben could reach him. In fury Ben clawed at the man who minutes ago had been his friend. Geoff hardly flinched, batting him away. Then Mrs Powell was up again, grappling his arms, and there was Tiffany counter-attacking, her eyes crazed and bloodshot.

  ‘Ben,’ Mrs Powell gasped. She was trying to get Geoff in some kind of neck-lock. ‘Tiffany. Leave me. I’m b
egging–’

  The world somersaulted. Ben felt as if an axe had chopped him in the windpipe. He lay on his back, ashy clouds afloat above him. They were pretty, edged with pink in the light leaking over the horizon. Sounds wallowed through the haze, scuffles, choking cries. Some sort of fight close by. Something important. With a jolt he came back to himself. Tasting blood he swallowed. It felt like gulping down a fragment of flint.

  ‘Ben.’ The weak voice was Tiffany’s. She lay by the rail at the roof’s edge. He crawled to her side.

  ‘Are you– oh, no.’ Her sleeves were cut to ribbons. ‘You’re bleeding.’

  ‘You’re bleedin’ right.’ She giggled unnervingly. That didn’t sound good. Losing all this blood must be making her faint. With desperate resourcefulness he clawed off the sleeves of his own pashki kit and tied them as bandages around Tiffany’s arm.

  ‘Er. Keep pressure on it.’ That was what they said on TV.

  By the muffled screams and snarls he guessed the fight had moved back inside the cabin. Ben breathed a silent thank-you to Mrs Powell – she must have driven Geoff away from them while they lay helpless. Probably with the last of her strength. Ben wept tears of despair.

  ‘We were beating him. It was three on one. What happened?’

  ‘Jafri zafri.’ Tiffany chuckled again. ‘Should have seen that coming.’

  Maybe they should. But now Ben grasped the terrible truth. Secret weapon or no secret weapon, Geoff was a foe beyond them. He had weapons at his fingertips they could barely imagine, and what did they have? Compared to him they were defenceless. They were kittens before a cat.

  ‘Tiffany, I’ll– I’ll get you to a hospital. Hang on.’

  ‘Oh. Yuck.’ She seemed to notice how gravely she was wounded. ‘Whoops. Still, at least he didn’t hurt you.’

  ‘What do you mean? He nearly broke my neck.’

  ‘No scratches, though. Look.’

  Ben examined his bare arms. No, this couldn’t be right. There were the bruises from his earlier battles, but where were the slashes from Geoff’s claws? He checked his torso, his face.

  ‘That’s impossible. I was fighting him.’ It seemed unfair to have no proof. ‘He was clawing at me.’

  ‘He can’t have missed every time. Unless…’Tiffany sat upright. ‘Ben! That must be it. The claws. Kittens and cubs. Oh. He’s fallen for you.’

 

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