The Future of London: (L-2011, Mr Apocalypse, Ghosts of London)

by Mark Gillespie

  Walker opened and closed his mouth in a snapping motion.

  At last there was a glimmer of understanding in Charlie’s eyes. He nodded briefly, then leaned forward, pushing back the tip of the sword with his neck.

  It left just enough room.

  Charlie bit down on the fingers of Sumo Dave’s hand.

  Sumo Dave didn’t see it coming, not until it was too late. It was probably the surprise, rather than the pain itself, that forced him to release his grip on Charlie. And this time, Charlie wasn’t hanging around. He took off, hurrying back down the aisle towards an ecstatic looking Barboza.

  Walker was already racing towards the aisle where Sumo Dave was standing, shaking the pain out of his hand. When he was close enough, Walker swung his axe at the samurai sword. The axe came down upon the centre of the blade, making a loud clanging noise as it knocked the weapon out of Sumo Dave’s hand for a second time.

  Sumo Dave’s face was a mask of incandescent rage. He was about to say something but Walker wasn’t in the mood to talk. He charged forwards and kicked at Sumo Dave’s midsection with the flat of his shoe. The kick landed on Sumo Dave’s waist with enough force to knock him off his feet. He doubled over as he landed on the hard floor with a booming thud.

  Walker didn’t stop there. He hurried over to where Sumo Dave was still rolling about on the ground. The Ghost was grounded, possibly winded. He was helpless, and now Walker stood over him with his axe raised high, ready to finish the job. Sumo Dave looked up at Walker, knowing it was too late to fight back. Walker saw the humiliation and anger in the other man’s eyes. But there was no plea for mercy.

  Walker stood over him, the axe held aloft.

  The two men stared into one another’s eyes, communicating without words.

  Walker took a step back and dropped the axe. Again, it was like someone or something bigger had taken over, stopping him from doing what had to be done. The axe fell to the ground with a thud and it sounded like the walls of the chapel were coming down.

  Walker screamed with rage. He leapt at Sumo Dave, landing on top of the Ghost. He threw a volley of hard punches down on the man’s head. Sumo Dave, still dazed from the fall, covered up at first. But it didn’t take long before he began to fight back. He threw a series of long punches from the bottom. After that, he thrust his hips upwards, throwing Walker off him.

  Walker fell backwards. From the ground, he heard Sumo Dave coming after him.

  “Walker!” Barboza yelled. “Look out!”

  He looked up and saw Sumo Dave rushing towards him. Walker jumped back to his feet. Immediately he felt a battering ram of a right hand slamming into his face.

  Next thing he knew, he was the ground.

  Something inside told him to get back to his feet again. To fight back. Walker got up and he charged at Sumo Dave, trying to wrap his arms around the bigger man’s waist and wrestle him to the floor. But Sumo Dave was too big and strong and Walker realised too late that he wasn’t going to have much success grappling with the bigger man. Sumo Dave stuffed the attempted takedown with ease and to make matters worse, he threw a barrage of slashing elbows to the top of Walker’s head while Walker was doubled over and trying to tip him off balance. After several hard elbows, Walker dropped to the floor, his legs folding underneath him.

  For a moment, the chapel was spinning around. It felt like the building had been lifted into the air by a violent tornado.

  Walker was sitting on the ground. He looked up.

  There was a blurry giant standing over him. Someone was breathing heavily, like they were about to die. Was it the giant? Or was it him?

  “Had enough?” Sumo Dave said.

  But Walker wasn’t done yet. He lunged at the bigger man, swinging with a whirlwind of wild punches, aiming at the blurry shape in front of him. The three blurry shapes in front of him. But he couldn’t seem to hit the giant – not once. Still, Walker came forwards and continued to punch, connecting with nothing but air.

  Sumo Dave countered with punches of his own, one to the head and one to the body. Walker felt like a wrecking ball was having its way with him.

  “Walker!” Barboza yelled.

  Her voice sounded distant.

  Walker dropped onto one knee, like a prizefighter taking a ten-count. A voice in his head urged him back onto his feet, but he couldn’t do it. His head was throbbing. His body felt broken. And damn it, he was thirsty.

  “Why’d you give up the axe?” Sumo Dave said, standing over him. “To give me a chance? That’s weakness Mack. Weakness is what will get you killed in London. A wise man once said that to me.”

  Walker heard someone rushing over beside him. He looked up and saw Barboza standing in front of him, her arms spread out, blocking Sumo Dave from getting any nearer.

  “Get out the way Barboza,” Walker said. “I’m going to break this lanky cannibal fucker’s jaw if it’s the last thing I do. It probably will be, but I’m going to do it anyway.”

  Barboza didn’t move.

  “Barboza,” Walker said. “I said get out the…”

  A noise outside the chapel cut Walker off in mid-sentence.

  He turned his head towards the door. He listened to the noise and his heart sank as he realised what was happening.

  There were cars on City Road. Several of them, and at that moment they were pulling up somewhere close to the chapel.

  “Oh fuck,” Barboza said, looking towards the door. She sounded like someone defeated. “Oh God, no.”

  Walker tried to get back to his feet, but his body was shutting down. Telling him to give it a break. There was no way around it – he wasn’t going to be able to stop the Ghosts coming in. Neither was Barboza, neither was Charlie.

  Why’d you give up the axe?

  He heard voices on the street outside. Loud footsteps, making their way towards the chapel.

  “Captain!” somebody yelled. “You in there Captain?”

  Walker looked up. Sumo Dave was standing over him, staring down at Walker, like a giant standing over a mortal man.

  Walker saw nothing comforting in those dark brown eyes.

  “You shouldn’t have come out tonight Mack,” Sumo Dave said. “You should have gone to Station.”

  Outside, the Ghosts were getting closer.

  Sumo Dave sighed. Then he glanced over his shoulder towards the door. After a long pause, he turned back to Walker. With a smile on his lips, he shook his head, much like a disapproving adult scolding a naughty child.

  “Stay here,” he said. “All of you. Don’t go back out until the sun comes up.”

  Sumo Dave walked away without another word. He hurried over to where his sword was lying on the floor and picked it up, putting it back into the brown leather scabbard that hung from the belt around his waist.

  After that, he hurried back down the aisle of the chapel, his Doc Martens slamming off the floor. Sumo Dave sidestepped along a row of wooden pews, stopping to pick up the mask and judges’ wig on the floor of the other aisle. He put the mask on quickly, burying his face underneath the disguise.

  Then he grabbed the dead rogue by the hair and dragged the fresh corpse behind him like it was a suitcase on wheels.

  He walked towards the chapel exit.

  “Sumo!” Walker called out to him.

  Sumo Dave stopped and turned around. He tilted his head, like a confused dog.

  But Walker didn’t know what to say. He only knew that he should say something, but no words came out.

  “Stay here,” the Ghost Captain said. “Don’t move. Don’t talk until we’ve gone.”

  Sumo Dave disappeared out of sight, still dragging the dead rogue behind him, leaving a trail of smeared blood on the floor.

  Walker heard the Ghosts gathering on the cobbled courtyard outside. It sounded like there was an entire platoon of them.

  “Captain!” someone said. “Everything alright? We saw your car outside the graveyard but we couldn’t find you anywhere. Thought something might have happ
ened when you didn’t show up at the next stop. Did you find the boy? Is he in there?”

  “Little bastard gave me the slip,” the Captain said. “I underestimated him. He must have met up with the other two somewhere. Did you find them?”

  “Not yet,” said the other Ghost. “One of the other units has probably grabbed them by now.”

  “Yeah,” the Captain said.

  “What about in there?” someone said. “Thought we heard something.”

  “Rogues,” the Captain said. “Dirty bastards, riddled with disease just like this one. I took care of ’em. Chapel’s clear except for a few stinking corpses.”

  “Want us to go in for another look?” one of the Ghosts said. “It’s a big place, yeah? The boy might be hiding somewhere.”

  “Chapel’s clear,” the Captain said. “We’ve wasted enough time here as it is tonight. C’mon let’s clear out.”

  “Yes Captain.”

  The footsteps receded, moving further away from Wesley’s Chapel.

  Inside the building, Walker, Barboza, and Charlie kept perfectly still.

  Chapter 18

  FreakySkandal.com – The Hottest Celebrity Gossip!

  * * *

  July 12th 2020

  * * *

  Excerpt from a clip posted to the FreakySkandal website at 10.59pm.

  * * *

  Rudyard Campbell, CEO of SKAM Media, is walking out of the front door of the exclusive Prime Craft Steakhouse in Birmingham’s trendy South Side. Even amongst seasoned restaurant-goers, Prime Craft is notorious for its outrageous prices – a bone-in ribeye for example, will set customers back at least two hundred pounds.

  * * *

  Campbell steps onto the pavement, accompanied by several family members including his wife, three of his five grown up children, and a scattering of grandchildren aged between five and fourteen. The Campbells are surrounded by several large bodyguards who are swiftly ushering them towards a black Rolls Royce Phantom 2020, which is waiting on the street with the engine still running.

  * * *

  At this point, one of Freaky Skandal’s roving reporters – with his camera phone pointing towards the Campbell group – moves in.

  * * *

  FS REPORTER: Mr Campbell sir, a quick word please?

  * * *

  One of the bodyguards puts a hand out, blocking the reporter’s path.

  * * *

  BODYGUARD: Make room please.

  * * *

  FS REPORTER: Just a quick word sir – we’re broadcasting live to millions of people on the Freaky Skandal website. Also on our I-9 page, which has over three million followers.

  * * *

  Campbell looks over the bodyguard’s shoulder at the reporter. The old man’s leathery face looks uninterested.

  * * *

  RUDYARD CAMPBELL: Who did you say you’re with?

  * * *

  FS REPORTER: Freaky Skandal sir. Home of the hottest celebrity gossip – we get millions of visitors to our website every day of the week.

  * * *

  RUDYARD CAMPBELL: Okay. What can I do for you?

  * * *

  FS REPORTER: Just wanted to get your thoughts on tonight’s Big Chase sir? Have you been watching? Early indications suggest that SKAM are receiving even more complaints than last time.

  * * *

  RUDYARD CAMPBELL: Well I haven’t really been watching – as you can see I’ve been out for a meal with my family tonight.

  * * *

  FS REPORTER: What do you say to the people who are complaining about tonight’s Future of London broadcast? To those who call it sick exploitation?

  * * *

  RUDYARD CAMPBELL: (Edging towards the parked car) Well they’ve been saying that since the day we launched, haven’t they?

  * * *

  FS REPORTER: But the Big Chase takes it to a whole new level. Don’t you think sir?

  * * *

  RUDYARD CAMPBELL: (Stops walking towards the car and turns to face the reporter) No I don’t. In fact, I would disagree strongly with anyone who thinks this is sick exploitation on our part. There is great importance in showing these events and specifically it’s in regards to the ongoing RELEASE versus PRESERVE debate. Watching these people at their worst, this is crucial evidence for the PRESERVE campaign, don’t you think? Can you imagine trying to rehabilitate these people into our society? People who have tasted flesh, who live in an environment devoid of law and order. We have no choice but to contain them. We have no choice but to watch and learn something new about ourselves, about the human condition – no matter how awful it is. That’s the gift the people of London give to us every day.

  * * *

  FS REPORTER: I also wanted to ask about the recent rumours sir. The word is that mobile phones are going to be added to the Drop Parcels sometime soon. That some sort of contact is going to be made between people on either side of the M25. Is that true?

  * * *

  RUDYARD CAMPBELL: This is something that’s being discussed right now. Certainly we’re not monsters. We don’t want to abandon these people entirely just because we can’t rehabilitate them back into society. The phone drop idea has been mentioned but it’s not like a regular cell phone where people make calls and texts back and forth. We’re not going to be able to talk to these people. The idea is that we get them to send something back to us. We drop the phones, provide a number for them to send messages or photographs to their loved ones. To tell us their story. We’re hoping to introduce this before the end of the year.

  * * *

  FS REPORTER: Do you think that will please the extremists sir? What do you think The Good and Honest Citizens will have to say about that?

  * * *

  Rudyard Campbell turns away from the reporter. He walks towards the open door of the waiting Rolls Royce Phantom and climbs inside. One of the bodyguards uses his massive bulk to block the reporter from getting any closer.

  * * *

  FS REPORTER: (Yelling to Campbell) Enjoy the rest of your evening sir.

  Chapter 19

  Walker felt like he’d been sitting on the chapel floor for hours. But it was probably no more than five minutes after he’d heard the Ghosts leave that Barboza came up behind him and threaded her arms under his armpits.

  “What are you doing?” Walker said. His voice was groggy.

  “Getting you back to your feet,” she said. “What does it look like?”

  Walker looked down and saw Barboza’s hands clasped tightly together in the middle of his chest. She was pulling at him, encouraging him to get up off the floor. Tough love, they call it. Painful too. As Barboza tried to get him back into a standing position, sharp jolts of pain shot up and down Walker’s body.

  “Go easy will you?” he said.

  Barboza stopped pulling. Gently, she sat him back down again.

  “Sorry Walker,” she said. “Just trying to keep you upright and awake. I don’t want you to black out or anything like that.”

  Walker flopped back down into a seating position on the floor. The pain was bad but it felt superficial – cuts and bruises mostly. It didn’t feel like anything had been broken and fingers crossed, there was no long-term damage. Sumo Dave had for the most part, landed his blows on Walker’s arms and legs.

  “I’m not going to black out,” Walker said.

  He got back to his feet by himself, refusing any assistance from Barboza. As he got up though, she stood beside him, her arm outstretched and on stand-by in case he needed it.

  Walker stood in the aisle, his head swimming. It was going to take a few minutes for all the pieces to fit back together again.

  “Bloody hell Walker,” Barboza said. “He’s your friend?”

  “Aye,” Walker said. “Well, sort of.”

  Barboza shook her head in disbelief. “With friends like that who needs enemies, eh?” she said.

  Walker looked at her. “Are you kidding?” he said. “If he wasn’t my friend, we’d be tied up in
the back of one of those meat wagons right now. Destined to be food or slaves or God knows.”

  “Like Carol?” a voice said behind them.

  Walker turned around.

  Charlie was standing further down the aisle. The boy’s skin was still a sickly pale colour, which only seemed to highlight the red welt on his neck where Sumo Dave had pressed the sword against his skin.

  “What was that?” Walker asked.

  “Carol’s gone isn’t she?” Charlie said. It was a question, but it sounded like he was telling them something.

  “Aye,” Walker said.

  “I’m sorry Charlie,” Barboza said. “But you’re safe and that’s what Carol wanted, more than anything else in the world I think.”

  Walker glanced up at the ceiling of the chapel. He scanned the edges and corners of the large room, the hanging lights – everything, searching for signs of anything unusual.

  “Any cameras in here?” he said, whispering in Barboza’s ear.

  Barboza shook her head. “I doubt it,” she said. “If there is, we just put on one hell of a show.”

  “What are we going to do?” Charlie said, cutting in. He seemed irritated that they were excluding him from the conversation.

  “We stay here until sunrise,” Walker said. “We get our heads down, turn off the lights and keep quiet. And when we wake up, it’ll all be over.”

  “Yeah,” Barboza said. She walked down the aisle towards Charlie and put an arm around his shoulder. Then gently, she guided him to the nearest bench.