by Matt Whyman
“Forget about it,” Billy replies. “If it wasn’t for Aleister, you’d have been all busted up on the pavement out there. He saved you from a fall, Blaize. And I just so hope that’s also what he had in mind for Yoshi and the others when he took off into the tunnels.”
Blaize turns and faces the snake. Aleister had stationed it there “for protection”, so he told them, but every time one of them approached the door it rose up and hissed. “I’m just worried that we’ve been tricked,” she says.
“Relax,” says Billy, smoothing the ruffles of his shirt. “You’d have to be sharp as a card to catch out a street magician. There’s no trick we can’t see through. It can be anything from a sleight of hand to a distraction technique as simple as a cough. Audience control is the key, you see, and believe me there has yet to be a moment when I don’t know what’s really going on.”
Billy prepares to illustrate his point by closing his fingers over a coin from his pocket, only to note that both twins have switched their attention to something behind him. He turns, finds the screen with the black and white feed from the Map Room and carelessly allows the coin to drop from the hem of his pantaloons. Billy’s only just in time to catch sight of the last of his comrades rushing across the frame. His first thought is that Yoshi seems to be in a hurry to get home. Then he notes the lanterns in the passage behind the boy are going out one by one, as if a force of darkness is advancing towards the Map Room. These lights aren’t simply snuffed out, however. They’re knocked clean off the walls, much to the horror of the watching trio, by an army of repellent-looking creatures.
“Am I seeing things?” Billy jabs at several buttons on the keyboard, and raises the image on the big screen at the back. “Are they humans or pigs?”
“Whatever they may be,” replies Scarlett, as a green light over the screen indicates that the engineering hatch down there has been opened up from the outside, “they don’t seem very happy.”
“Looking at those butchers’ knives,” her sister adds fearfully, “I’d say they look fit to kill!”
33
THE RESURRECTION TRICK
Yoshi witnesses the brute’s boot scramble through the hatch, and wonders if he’ll make it to safety himself. The chaos behind him is closing in. It sounds like a riot in a barnyard, and can be heard fanning wide across the Map Room. All this squealing can’t hide the crash of bookcases as these marauding ogres scale the walls. As they’re guided by their snouts and vaulted ears, he rules out simply hiding. His chance of reaching the hatch unharmed is slim, but it’s his only option now. The boy dares to glimpse over his shoulder, sees furious, sightless creatures flocking over the table. Papers and documents spread into the air, as does Yoshi when his foot meets the first step to the hatch.
“Oh, no!”
For a moment, he lies helpless and spreadeagled on the deckplate. His pursuers are almost upon him, when a familiar glow washes down the steps. He looks up, thinking Livia must have come to his rescue, only to find a pair of bare and leathery feet in front of his nose.
“You saved my skin, sir!” cries Jenks Junior, his aura burning fiercely. “It’s high time I saved yours!”
“Get in here now!” Mikhail appeals to them through the hatch. “Watch out, Yoshi!”
He looks back, sees the elder advancing through the pack. With a snarl as much as a squeal, the wretch draws his butcher’s knife from the string of his bloodstained apron. He raises it high overhead, baring sharpened, mismatched teeth. Instinctively, Yoshi rolls to avoid the downswing, and gasps at the sound of the blade tip striking the step.
“Why must everything die at your hands?” Jenks Junior demands to know, with both ears pinned back in anger. “I’ll not allow the same fate to happen here.”
The elder simply grunts, and glowers at the boy sprawled before him. The knife glints in Jenks Junior’s aura, which then brightens so intensely that Yoshi is forced to shield his eyes. “If there’s bloodshed,” Jenks says quietly, seemingly unaware that his aura looks set to explode, “it will be yours.”
Unaffected by the glare, the elder simply shoots out one hand and grabs Jenks Junior by one ear. “Enough!” it seethes, and lifts its victim clean off his feet. Jenks’s aura flickers and dims, as he struggles in vain to be free. “You were born wrong,” the elder snarls. “I should’ve finished you at birth!”
Yoshi can see what’s coming, but it’s too late. With a roar, the elder flings poor Jenks against the bunker wall. The little thing slams against the riveted panelling with a grimace, and simply drops to the steps. There, his aura flickers for a moment and then dies.
“Get inside, my friend!”
Mikhail’s voice brings Yoshi to his senses. This time, he scrambles for the steps, scooping the limp body into his arms along the way. He can hear the elder right behind him, and simply throws himself through the open hatch. “He isn’t breathing,” howls Yoshi, releasing the lifeless bundle from his arms. Mikhail slams the hatch shut, and tightens the wheel until it won’t move any more. Blows can be heard raining down from the outside, but the party are deaf to that now. All eyes are on the piggy-looking boy named Jenks Junior. Julius, Livia and Mikhail crouch around him, panting heavily. Even Aleister betrays a hint of concern, dropping down to feel for a pulse. After a moment he bows his bald head, and retreats to check the hatch.
“Magick may be capable of many things, but resurrecting the dead is not one of them.”
As the hammering on the door continues, joined now by the sound of a baying mob tearing up the old man’s precious study, only Mikhail stops looking so defeated and forlorn.
“Would everyone stand back a moment,” he says, and blows into his palms. He rubs his hands together, waiting for the first person to oblige. “You guys may know your hocus-pocus, but it’s time you saw a master at work.”
“This is no time for street magic,” sighs Yoshi.
Mikhail silences him with one finger. “If I can revive a fly, I’m sure I can do the same thing here.”
“But that was just an illusion,” pleads Yoshi, in no mood for tricks.
“What have we got to lose?” Mikhail addresses them all, clearly determined to see this through. “Now give me some space.”
Reluctantly, Yoshi moves away from the body of Jenks Junior. A lump builds in his throat. He trades a glance with Aleister, still reluctant to trust the brute.
“For all the trouble this has caused,” the boy says, speaking up to be heard over the racket from outside, “I’m afraid the seventh waypoint didn’t work for me. I laid my hands upon it, and nothing happened.”
For the first time since Yoshi had set eyes upon him, Aleister listens with a hint of compassion in his eyes. “Had you remained at the Foundation, and finished the programme with me,” he replies, “I might have taught you to unlock any waypoint of your choosing.”
“But Jenks only had to touch it for all kind of crazy things to kick off, and he’s had no training at all.”
Aleister’s expression darkens mournfully, even if he does mask it with a kind smile. It serves to soften the nature of his face, thinks Yoshi for a brief moment. Makes him look more like someone on his wavelength.
“Then we’ve lost a very special individual.”
Yoshi flattens his lips, and then turns to find Mikhail cradling the boy’s head in his lap. The young Russian takes a deep breath, pinches Jenks’ snout, and then dips down to exhale into his mouth.
“The kiss of life,” says Livia, cottoning on to what he has planned. “That isn’t magic. It’s basic first aid!”
“If it works,” adds Yoshi, “it’ll be a miracle.”
Every few seconds, Mikhai breaks off and pumps Jenks’s barrel chest. The others watch and wait, barely breathing themselves. Eventually, Livia touches Mikhail on the shoulder.
“You’ve tried your best,” she says. “But it’s just too late.”
“No it isn’t,” he mutters, and dips down to breathe for him again. This time, a ribbon of light swims
around Jenks’ shoulders.
“There!” pipes Julius. “His aura is returning.”
Mikhail switches from the boy’s mouth to his chest once again. A moment later, a splutter leaves Jenks’s wide pink lips, followed by a cough and a squealing intake of breath.
“You did it!” cries Yoshi, and claps Mikhail on the back.
“I’m impressed,” adds Aleister. “Perhaps you could show me how it’s done some time.”
Mikhail simply sits back with a pinched look on his face. “My lips taste of bacon,” he tells them, and scrapes his tongue across the sleeve of his shirt. “Yuk.”
Their laughter doesn’t last long, however. Not when something strikes the flywheel so hard from the outside that it punches a dent into it.
“They won’t rest,” says Jenks Junior weakly. “Once the hunt is on, it can only end one way.”
Nobody answers, for the very thought is too grim to put into words. Finally, Mikhail says: “Why don’t we just leave through the buckled bars?”
Just then, the bunker intercom crackles into life, and Billy No-Beard’s voice echoes through the gangways and stairwells. “Guys,” he begins, “if you can hear us could you join us on the Bridge at the double? In approximately thirty seconds, I’m going to be forced to put us on lockdown in here.”
The flywheel takes another battering just then. This time accompanied by the sound of scrabbling, which can be heard all around. Julius is the first to respond, facing everyone now. “For the first time in her history,” he announces, sounding genuinely alarmed, “this bunker is about to be breached!”
34
SIEGE UNDER THE CITY
The bald-headed brute is first through the sliding doors. Immediately, the snake that he had left to guard the others spirals up his leg. At his waist, it wraps itself into a belt. The others pay no attention. For the banks of screens in here are patched into the bunker’s own external security cameras. The multiple viewpoints are shocking in equal measure. The Map Room has been reduced to piles of splintered wood and books. Several fires are burning, while the mutant-looking mob responsible continues to plunder planks with which to beat at the bunker walls. Most alarming of all, however, is the feed from the cellar under the buckled bars.
“How did they get round to the front?” asks Mikhail, with a sinking heart.
Billy counts everyone inside, and brings the blast doors down behind them. “These guys know how to dig,” he says. “We’re encased in clay, after all. Not to mention all the pipes and vents and rat runs.”
“Everything is connected,” Julius tells him, and then turns to the brute. “Isn’t that right, Aleister?”
“If I didn’t know any better,” the brute replies, choosing not to comment, “I’d say they were foraging.”
“For food?” asks Yoshi.
“For us!
The boy’s brow lifts in surprise, and he swallows when Jenks Junior pops his head around Mikhail’s shoulder, and says: “Sir, it’s your sweat that’s driving their bloodlust.”
Yoshi points at himself. “Mine? Oh, great!”
On the monitors, it’s clear just what they’re up against. The camera poised above the main hatch shows the cellar to be teeming with as many troglodytes as the Map Room. They circle and squeal, as if preparing for a feed, which only serves to chill the poor boy to the core. He catches Mikhail’s eye. “You’re the great illusionist,” he says. “Can’t you make them disappear?”
The Russian shrugs. “Street magic isn’t going to get us out of this.”
“I believe it can,” counters Aleister. He stops there, waiting until he has everyone’s full attention. “And I volunteer myself to perform it.”
“How?” asks Livia.
“By transforming myself into Yoshi, and leading them back from where they came.”
Billy No-Beard is first to break the silence that greets this response. “So, you’re going to turn yourself into our boy here,” he says suspiciously. “Yeah, right.”
“Billy, I’m disappointed,” he growls. “Surely you can work it out.”
The twins glance at one another, grinning despite the gravity of their situation. “Come on, Billy,” says Blaize. “I thought there’s no trick you can’t see through.”
Billy grasps at his downy chin, thinking hard. “I give up,” he says finally. “You can’t just become someone else. You might be able to hypnotise them to believe that, but that’s as far as it goes.”
The brute seems to find all this quietly amusing. “You’re missing something very obvious,” he tells them, shrugging off his white mink coat at the same time. “I never thought the day would come when I practised your kind of pedestrian magic, but it appears to be our only option.” Instead of folding the mink over a chair, however, Aleister holds it out to Yoshi, and asks him for his hoodie.
“I don’t get it,” Yoshi confesses. “The top is large on me, but it’d be several sizes to small for you.”
“This isn’t about size,” Aleister tells them all. “It’s about scent! Remember, our audience is blind. They operate on limited senses, and we must exploit that to our advantage.”
“OK,” says Billy begrudgingly, “but how are you going to get out of the bunker and back into the tunnels?” He steps to one side there, and invites them to look at the screen. None of them need to look in close detail to know that the wretches have just found a way in. As those in the Map Room succeed in staving in the hatch, a siren goes off within the bunker. Billy faces back to Aleister. “If you step beyond those blast doors now, they’ll be on to you in seconds.”
“That’s where you come in,” the brute replies, still waiting for Yoshi to take his coat. “I’m relying on your skill to misdirect in order to create the necessary distraction.”
Behind them on the monitors, the first marauders can be seen taking to the stairs. Those who are standing carry pipes ripped from the walls. Others brandish burning torches. Those on all fours grip knives between their teeth as they lope past the camera. One can be seen rearing up at the lens, which then cuts to white noise. Judging by the crashing sound from outside the blast doors, it’s clear to everyone that they’re not here just to look around.
“The Bridge is stocked with emergency rations,” says Billy in a bid to reassure everyone. “We’ll be fine for a few days, so long as you like cold beans from a tin.”
Yoshi responds by peeling off his hoodie, and swapping it for Aleister’s coat. “I’m not a big fan of beans,” he tells him, climbing into the white mink garment and rolling up the sleeves. “How do I look?” he asks, but nobody answers because the battering and squealing is directly outside the blast door now.
Aleister hauls himself into the boy’s top, lifting the hood over his bald dome. With his nose and chin jutting from the shadows, it leaves him looking like some kind of sinister but streetwise monk. “Is there any other way out of here?” he asks.
“The escape chute on the floor below,” says Mikhail. “The generals who used to run this place liked to be assured that they could get out in a hurry if needs be. I don’t think they imagined it would be used to flee from savage troglodytes, but it’ll get you outside the bunker and into the tunnels.”
The brute listens closely, and then asks Billy to make a public address. “I want you to call to them through the bunker’s communication system. Can we shut down every speaker apart from one?”
“Sure. It’s possible to talk directly to the canteen from here. The trouble is the stairs lie just beyond the doorway to it, and that’s the only way you’ll reach the chute.”
“We’ll worry about that later.” Aleister smoothes the top down, looking awkward with so much bulk packed into such a small item of clothing, and not a little vulnerable. “If we can lure them into one place, I can make a break for it.”
“But they’ll hear you!” warns Jenks.
“Then let’s hope that everything goes to plan.” Aleister shoots his cuffs, revealing a glimpse of a tattoo on one wrist. “One last
thing,” he says. “Nobody must step out of here until the last of them has left the bunker.”
Billy groans. “Please don’t leave the snake to watch over us,” he asks. “It gives me the creeps.”
Aleister coaxes the serpent from his belt hook, and then hands it to Yoshi. “Put her in the pocket of my coat,” he says. “My Pretty considers it to be her home.”
“So how will we know when it’s safe to leave?” asks Blaize.
The brute looks over the twins’ heads, and finds Julius back there. “When order is restored,” he says, and lifts his tight blue eyes briefly to the ceiling. “The future of the city depends on it, after all.”
The old man nods, understanding more than the others, it seems. “As above,” he says, “so below.”
Livia looks at the twins. “What did he just say?”
“It means that everything in this universe is connected,” replies Aleister, preparing now to leave. “For if we fail to return these creatures to their underground for good then very soon they’ll find a way to the surface. And I think we’ve seen for ourselves the chaos that would bring to the world up there.”
35
DESTRUCTION TO DISTRACTION
“Calling all visitors. Ahoy there! May I have your attention please . . .” The voice crackles through the tannoy in the canteen. Normally, the benches would be dotted with crew members supping hot chocolate, or plotting new tricks to perform on the streets. On hearing the Executive Deck Hand address them in this manner, they would roll their eyes or shake their heads. With an away day in full swing, however, the summons simply echoes around the empty space.
Even so, the bunker is not deserted. Judging by the calamitous din coming in through the gangway, Billy has to try again before he makes himself heard. “Listen up, you pig-headed vandals. I’m over here. Yes I am! Normally, I’d serve guests with a selection of duck bites in plum sauce, but you’d only make a mess of it. So what have I got to offer? Why don’t you come and find out?”