by Walker, Luke
Nothing.
No Yang.
Just more blue.
It grew from his fingertips. It spread like paint and coated the dead streets, the silent roads and the small alleyways between buildings where nobody walked and where no wind blew through the rubbish because nothing existed in this version of Willington. This dead town. This empty planet scoured clean.
The sky ate the world and turned the space it filled into silence.
Then the blue rushed away, racing up and up as if fired from a gun toward the top of the world. Wind gusted hard in Dao’s ears, drowning out everything, so he closed his eyes against what waited for his body far below. He took Yang with him past each window reflecting the sun, each inch of Greenham Place as it tried to mock his life and his pointless yearning for Huan’s forgiveness; Dao took his boy as he fell soundlessly towards the wall of fire that turned the street and pavement into a river of flame.
In the end, he took his boy and held him tight as the blue pressing against his eyelids became a deep red and the fire swallowed his skin and bones.
Chapter Fifty-One
Kelly hit thin air, then smacked into a hard object. Pain boomed up her wrists. Instinctively, she closed her fists and her vision cleared.
Somehow, she’d managed to grab the railings. She hung from them, the chasm of the stairwell yawning all the way through the nine floors below.
Kelly, look at me.
She looked up, sweat almost blinding her. Close to being lost in Kelly’s wavering vision, Carla Brown loomed over the rail, staring straight down, mouth wide open and pints of hot blood falling like a red waterfall.
It struck Kelly in the face, filthy and full of a dead stink. The final segment of her battered sanity yelled that she could not open her mouth. Do that and she’d be infected. She’d be eaten alive from the inside.
Still, the blood rained, sinking into her clothes, streaming down the front of her top, sticking to her breasts, hot and full of the promise of sickness all for her. The horrendous agony in her shoulder was almost forgotten in her horror, but the rapidly growing ache in her forearm and wrist couldn’t be ignored. She was going to fall and explode on the ground as Alex had. But only if the monster below didn’t come back and swallow her first.
No, please. I’m sorry, Alex. I’m so sorry. I didn’t want this. I didn’t want you hurt. Never wanted that. Please, you have to believe me.
The rain of blood became a trickle, then stopped. Eyes almost glued together, Kelly tried to see. The fog that comprised Carla Brown was turning away. Kelly raised a shaking arm and gripped the posts of the stair rail in time to see.
A second shadow raced from the wall, barreling down on Carla like a storm cloud.
Carla let out a noise that didn’t come from a human mouth—a machinelike groan, a buzzing growl—and grew a giant’s arms to welcome the second shape.
They collided and shot into the air above Kelly. There was a second, no more, of them hanging together before they fell. Hot wind blew past Kelly as the shapes missed her by an inch. They fell further, entwined, and the second one turned over, a face forming for a fraction of a second.
Alex.
Below Alex, Carla gripped her daughter, pulling her down faster, both of them falling beside the landings of floor six, five, four, three, two, one.
They struck the ground and blew apart into nothing. A massive tremor raced straight up the centre of the building and Kelly’s legs swung helplessly. The pain in her arms became a roar, lessened only by the knowledge she had no chance of climbing up, so as soon as she let go, the hurt would stop.
Glass exploded from the lift shaft, each section blowing outwards to rain huge chunks of pane to the ground floor. Unable to hear anything but the detonations, Kelly tried to cry for help. Her voice was lost even to her as cannon fire crashed out of the lift shaft. Then, with a screech of twisting metal and bending supports, the lift itself fell from the shaft. Its top hit one of the posts, snapped, and the remainder tumbled straight down. It shattered in a storm of flying glass and crushed doors. Wiring flew loose; sparks danced through the wreckage. Kelly’s right hand came free from the railing with shocking ease. She spun around, too weak to cry out at the awful pulling sensation that jarred through her shoulder. Two of her fingers lost their hold.
Alex.
There was no time to think anything else. Another finger came free. She hung, entire body weight held by a lone finger smeared with blood and sweat.
Kelly dropped.
A blast of agony exploded through everything at once. Something twisted her around and Kelly saw the flat floor of the landing on the other side of the railing, then feet. A crouching figure, shouting, telling her to hold on.
With dumb wonder, she reached up and Simon’s solid hand slammed into hers.
Chapter Fifty-Two
Crying out, Simon pulled Kelly up from the other side of the railings. He rose too sharply, bending his back rather than his legs, and a muscle around his coccyx turned into what felt like a burning rock.
Simon let out a dumb noise of hurt, eyes squeezed tightly shut, teeth and tongue parched. Kelly kicked at the tiny space of floor on her side of the railings and managed to slip her small feet between the narrow bars. Coughing on the blood from her broken nose and spitting flecks into Simon’s chest and neck, she took as much of her own weight as possible and grabbed his neck. He opened his eyes, every muscle in his back throbbing, and pulled Kelly over the edge.
“You okay?” he yelled, hearing still muffled after the storm of yells and breaking glass and metal below.
Kelly nodded, unable to speak. Holding her as tightly as one might a lover, Simon backed away, slipped in a long smear of still running blood, and Kelly saw over his shoulder.
“DAO STOP DAO STOP DON’T DO IT DAO WAIT.”
The cry broke free, sending knives through her throat and nose. Simon spun; Kelly pushed herself from him and they ran across the landing, both yelling Dao’s name as the man stepped from the floor, through the window and stood on empty air.
A second later, Dao was no longer in sight. All they had in his place was the fresh morning light, brightening the sleeping buildings and roads of Willington’s heart.
His hands limp and useless, Simon lowered them. He rested against the railing and stared out at the sky and tops of buildings. The sloping roofs of shops and the expanse of the cathedral all appeared normal, but normal was long gone. Same as Dao. All they had now were their strained muscles and the dark throb of cuts and bruises.
“Christ,” Simon whispered.
Aches pulsed in the centre of his head in a way they hadn’t since his last hangover. He pressed a palm to his forehead as if testing for a temperature, and wiped away sweat. Its salty stink was everywhere.
Walking stiffly and cradling the hand he’d grabbed to stop her from dropping, Kelly joined him.
“Dao,” she whispered. Even the single word sounded blocked. Kelly’s ruined nose turned it into a nasal drone.
“Gone.”
His little reply didn’t cover it. The man had walked through the glass like it was made of some stretchy material; he’d passed through to the thin air outside the windows and he’d hung there. Only for a second that felt like it could have been a few hours, but still hanging there and reaching for nothing before he fell to the hungry pavement.
Kelly lowered her head, not crying, and that was a terrible thing. Tears had died for both of them and all they had in their place was the silence as the building held its breath.
Simon reached for Kelly and her fingers encircled his.
“Can you feel it?” she whispered. Blood dripped from her face. It pattered on the floor with a small, secret sound.
“What?” He knew. Saying it was still impossible.
“We’re being watched. This fucking place… ” Kelly trailed off, her voice a dull mutter. For the moment, her fear had died with her tears.
Simon kept his mouth closed and his gaze on the glass ove
rlooking the city centre. She was right. They were being watched, considered, judged.
“It’s been watching us since we got here.” Kelly kept a tight hold on his hand, and that was the only comfort in the world. Their faint reflections shone, the paleness in his face and the drying smears of blood all over Kelly’s face and clothes wanting to destroy that comfort. “The building knows everything about us, Simon.”
“Yeah,” he whispered.
Briefly, the fire in the centre of her face, the sickening jarring sensation filling her arm from shoulder to wrist, eased into silence.
“Can we burn it?”
Kelly’s question came in a light musing manner, as if they were discussing what to have for lunch. Simon listened for what he expected to come: a mocking laugh slipping out of the walls, Rod, Alex or Dao calling their names, or whatever really lived in the stone and glass of Greenham Place to finally reveal itself and ask just how they thought they could kill it.
“No. I don’t think so.”
“Why not? Everything out there is burned. This place can cook, too.”
Still in the slight, gentle voice. Still no fear.
“I wish,” Simon replied.
He glanced downwards through the little gap between window and railing. It seemed impossible to think Dao had balanced on such a small space before walking through glass. A few inches across and a space of nothing at all dropping nine floors straight down. As Simon studied it, the unbroken view folded in on itself, flipping around so he stared upwards instead of down, even though his head remained hanging.
Vertigo swam through his skull and his innards churned. It wasn’t real; he knew that. It was simply the building playing with him and a voice far outside anything human broke through the vertigo.
I’m playing with you, Simon. I hate you, Simon. I’ll kill you. Kill all of you. I’ll crush you. I’ll burn you. You can’t burn me. You will never kill me. Never burn. Outside burns. Never burn me. Never get out, Simon. Never. Up and down and in and out. No way out. No outside. You stay with me forever and ever. You burn. You burn, you FUCKING BURN, YOU WILL BURN AND BURN AND BURN.
A woman’s face, pale and drawn, filled Simon’s vision. Silence crashed down and it was a welcome peace. An exterior rage battered at the wall but had no way of breaking through. After long seconds, it pulled away and sank into the formless black of cold night.
Leave me the fuck alone, Simon thought, and blinked a few times. Normal vision returned. He and Kelly remained at the window, still linked by their fingers. It seemed no time had passed while his head and insides were ravaged by the screaming voice.
He tilted his head, straining to hear the slightest sound. Their surroundings were soundless; they could have been inside a vacuum. They weren’t, though. Not by a long way.
You’re here, aren’t you? You’re watching us.
A tiny breath came from somewhere near the window. It might have been a snigger or it could have been his imagination.
I heard that. I did.
“Fuck you,” Simon whispered. “Come out and show us what you are. You can’t, can you, you fucking coward?”
Wind blew out of nowhere, taking Simon back to the moments yesterday after everyone vanished, turning the building into a silence made deafening by its sudden difference from all the panic and fear. It made his hair flap, then did the same to Kelly, coating both of them with its stale stink, running over their bodies soaked with sweat and making them want to seal their mouths and noses against its stench. Refusing to do so, Simon inhaled the reek of dead meat and yelled against it.
“Fucking coward. Let’s have a look at you. Right here, you fucker. Right here.”
Vision spun, rolling over to send the floor over their heads.
Right here, you fuck, Simon thought and Rod laughed at him; Rod turned into a savage animal.
You really want that, son? You want to see what did those things to me as a boy? You want all the monsters in the world here to rip the skin off your bones? You want to be lost in all the black with no way back? Lost there with just your mum for company? Your mum ready to do all that stuff again? Well, come and have a look whenever you fancy it, mate. Whenever the fuck you fancy it.
The breath of the wind faded into stillness. Kelly said his name with no strength. Feeling abruptly powerful and welcoming any new sensation that was not misery or fear, Simon spat a thick wad of saliva against the glass. It struck with a foul splat before trickling its slow way down the window.
“Fuck you, coward,” Simon said.
If anything truly was listening or watching, it gave no reply.
“We should go outside,” Kelly murmured.
He turned to her and she spoke to the window.
“We should leave. The air outside. The heat. We should just step outside.”
She means you should die.
Simon listened for argument but none came. The thought was his and his alone.
“No, Kelly. We’re not doing that.”
“Why not? Maybe we deserve it. Maybe all of us did and that’s why we’re here. We could have gone anywhere when everyone started running.” She pointed to the smooth blue of the sky and Simon saw with sickened wonder that the vomited blood from the shape that might have been an old woman in a world that made sense had managed to coat Kelly’s arm all the way up to her shoulder. She looked as if she’d showered in gore.
“The bomb out there and everyone legging it. We ran but we came here. We didn’t have to but we did. We could have gone anywhere. Maybe it wanted us here. Maybe it’s been watching us outside.”
“What is it?” Simon whispered.
She shook her head. “I saw something.” The volume of her voice dropped a level. The slightest sound would drown her out. “Below. Before… ” Kelly’s entire body gave a brief shudder. “Before my mum.” She touched her face. “Before all this. Something down there. A big… creature. A monster. It’s here in the building. It’s everything here.”
She subsided for a few seconds, continuing before Simon had chance to think of a reply.
“Maybe it’s been watching us and brought us here to play with, because we deserve to be here and we deserve to just go back downstairs, break a window and go outside.”
Simon stared at her, at the twitch of her eye, at the tremble in her mouth, at the lack of tears.
It’s inside her. You stopped it somehow and it’s gone for her.
“Kelly, listen to me.” Ignoring the protest from the strained muscles in his back, he turned her around and pressed his face as close to hers as he could without making contact. Despite the lack of skin on skin, it was good. It was a human thing more important than the reek of blood or sour sweat.
“There’s something here, right? We know that, but it’s all pretend stuff. It’s not physically here. Nothing can touch us or hurt us unless we let it. We can’t be beaten by whatever’s here. Your guilt and your fear, it’s working on that, so don’t let it. We’ve fucked things up. I know that, but we don’t deserve this. None of us did. Okay? Whatever’s here is playing with us. It wants to hurt us, but it can only do that if we let it. You hear me?”
Kelly’s eyes remained wide open during his tirade. He closed his mouth and remained close to her face, searching it for any sign she understood and, more importantly, accepted it. Kelly blinked, a little light shining deep down in her pupils. Then she kissed him. The touch was only for a moment; her lips remained sealed and they were as dry as a winter wind on his. Even so, Simon welcomed the slight pressure with more gratitude than he’d have thought possible.
“Okay,” Kelly breathed. “Okay.” She pulled away a little. “So, how the fuck do we get out?”
It was time. Saying what had been in his head since the terrible seconds after Alex’s suicide was here and now. Simon leaned close to Kelly’s ear; she turned a little and tilted her head.
“It’s my mum. She’s the way out.”
Kelly pulled back. “What?”
“I don’t kno
w what’s going on. I don’t know how she’s here, but she is. Or whatever was good in her, that’s here and all the rest of her… the part that hurt me, that’s gone.” He had to close his eyes for a moment. “I don’t know what she is now, or even if it’s really her. I don’t think… ” Gaze clear and open, he stared at Kelly. “It’s like she’s more than she was.”
“What is she?” Kelly whispered.
He shook his head. “I don’t know. She’s not a ghost.” Simon managed a smile. “I don’t think ghosts work on me here. She said—” He had to break off. Tears of regret or hurt or whatever the fuck he could call it were close, too close. If they came, he might just collapse and never get up. “She said to go up. All the way.”
Kelly appeared to consider. It was a cover. She listened for the mad voices of dead people—guilt given the power of speech—to mock Simon’s belief and hope before the lizard-thing with the mouth filling its entire face to swallow them whole.
Silence answered, but it was a waiting silence. A silence listening to her as she listened to it. Worse than that was the sensation of something huge on all sides. It dwarfed her and Simon; they were no more than dust to it, in the same way an ant would be to them. Scurrying around its feet, two tiny dots it could crush or let live depending on its mood. Whatever listened, it went beyond the framework and windows of Greenham Place. It wore the building like clothes and it sank its body into the earth for miles underneath into the pitch-black silence. It looked up to the world of people and their stupid beliefs and their fights over nothing, and it ate their fears when those dreads dripped through the mud and rivers. And sometimes, it rose into the light of the human world when it grew hungry. And sometimes, the perfect meals were ready for it with a bit of guidance towards its plate.
Or mouth.