Johan pulled the bar out, and slid it free like a knife from butter. The wound, now a second puckering mouth, pulsated for a moment. It mouthed some kind of words, and blood cascaded from within the flesh. Finally, the creature coughed, and a fine spray shot out.
“…be… sorry…” it croaked and shook its head. With that momentum it flopped to one side and lay still within the pram.
21.
Nat clung onto the narrow ladder on the wall of the shaft. Her short jump had been successful, and her arm had swung her onto the ladder. She prayed her feet had dried enough to prevent slipping. With her arms curled around a metal rung, she wriggled her toes. Her socks squelched around her feet. She blew out a long breath through pursed lips.
I hope the soles are drier, she thought. She looked down into the endless dark. I can’t believe I’m suspended on a ladder God knows how many feet up…
“You okay?”
Max leaned out of the hatch. She guessed the walls of the shaft were thick, as the noise of the machines had been reduced and she heard Max clearly. His words seemed to resonate upwards and all around her.
“I’m fine,” she said breathlessly. “I’m not used to all this.”
“You will be.”
She forced a smile to show Max everything was okay. She doubted he could see her in the dark, but thought it best.
Max appears normal, but he could have unseen abilities, like night vision or something, she thought.
“You want to make a start so the rest of us can get on?”
“Which way am I going?”
“Up, of course.”
The shaft revealed no clue to what lay up ahead. Nat began her ascent, her feet making dull clangs on the ladder. After climbing a few feet, the ladder vibrated slightly. Nat glanced down and saw Max below her. She couldn’t see his face, only the messy heap of dark hair at the top of his head. She turned back to the ladder and climbed quicker, afraid that Max would reach her and grab her foot by mistake, sending her falling backwards, clutching at the empty air. She gritted her teeth, filled with extra determination for the climb.
The ladder shook violently for a second, and Nat imagined the screws working loose and the whole thing falling away from the wall. She clasped the current rung tighter.
“You okay down there?” she heard Max ask.
“Good,” said Jacob. “Go.”
It took another deep breath and a second to calm her spiking nerves before Nat carried on up. She climbed the rungs slower, raising a step with one foot joining the other before attempting the next. The stop-start motion seemed safer.
She wondered how Jacob could manage the ladder. After all, his hands alone were almost too large for the rungs. She expected him to use one hand at a time, like vertical monkey bars... and his feet? She had no idea.
Her foot slipped off the rung.
Nat cried out and her body fell. She snapped to a stop, her breath snatched from her lungs. Her arms locked straight, her shoulders strained. The rung above cut into her tight fingers.
“Nat!” Max cried. “Are you all right?”
Nat heard her pulse in her ears and she gasped in deep breaths. With another small cry, she felt around with her feet and found another rung. She carefully stood on it and, sure her footing was secure, slowly eased the pressure from her arms and changed her hold. Her fingers and shoulders seemed to sigh in relief.
“Nat?”
“I’m okay,” she sighed. “I’m okay.”
“What happened?”
“I slipped.”
“Hope she fall next time,” said the deep voice from below. “Want to know how far down. We listen to splat.”
“Shut up, Jacob,” said Max. “You think you can go on, Nat?”
“The sooner I’m off this damn ladder the better,” she replied, regaining a little composure. “How high is this thing?”
“About another fifty feet and we should be out. There’s another hatch. Alcazar keeps it open in case we drop by.”
“Right,” said Nat, more to herself than to Max. She took another deep breath and swallowed.
She knew she’d be safe on the surface. She was protected from most of the brothers out of the sewers. Max would understand if she escaped. As long as she kept their little secret, Max would understand.
She paused and hooked an arm around the ladder while she mopped her brow.
I could even make sure that they get food every day, now that I know the truth. Then no one would have to get hurt.
Her thoughts turned to the killers of their mother.
No, she corrected herself. Someone will get hurt once the brothers find out who’s to blame.
She climbed another few feet.
The image of Johan, with his stark white hair and dazzling blue eyes, jumped into her head. She remembered him standing over Agnes in the moment before she kicked.
I just know it was Johan. If I told the brothers, would that stop innocent people from getting hurt?
She thought about this for a while and decided that she couldn’t. She wasn’t judge and jury. Just because Johan and his boys were there didn’t mean they were killers. She couldn’t pass judgement without evidence. Jacob and his brothers were planning on killing their mother’s murderer, not just scaring them or giving them a beating. How could she condemn a man to death based purely on damning circumstance?
Nat looked up and spied the hatch a few feet above. Light glowed in the open cavity. Allowing her mind to wander, far from causing her to fall, had taken her from the gruelling and dangerous task of climbing the ladder. Relieved, she scrambled up the final few rungs and heaved herself onto the edge of the hatch.
Through the thick darkness beneath, Max still climbed at a steady pace perhaps twenty feet below. Beneath him, she heard Jacob. He puffed and panted and emitted the occasional small curse.
Nat slid around on her bottom and bent her legs at the knees to squeeze through the hatch. She planted her feet back onto the solid ground on the other side and stood up, glad to be off the ladder and already dreading the return trip.
If there is one, she thought and peered around.
She stood in an abandoned warehouse, and she guessed they were still in the derelict part of the city. Dawn had arrived during their journey through the sewers, and the first rays of golden morning light filtered in through smashed windows and an open door. Nat saw the street outside.
I could just walk out of here. All that time worrying how to escape and I can just walk out!
Yet her feet refused to move, her legs almost locked in place.
Should I? She licked her lips. There will be no one out there, not in this part of town, and this time I’d be alone. Jacob might risk coming out after me and if he catches up…
“Nat!”
She nearly cried out, wondering if, for a second, her thoughts had been spoken out loud, her ideas of betrayal heard.
Max’s hand poked out of the shadows, fingers splayed wide. “Give me a pull!”
Nat’s gaze lingered on the open door a second longer before she grabbed Max’s hand. She gripped his slippery skin and pulled. He toppled out of the hatch and fell to the floor, his patchwork coat tangled up around his body.
“Thanks,” he said, panting. “Damn ladder always takes it out of me.”
“No problem,” she said and offered her hand. He accepted it, and Nat tugged him to his feet.
She jumped back and covered her mouth, eyes fixed on Max’s chest, which pulsated and convulsed beneath his coat.
Oh Jesus, her mind screamed. This is it. He isn’t normal, he’s just like one of them.
She stared, her mouth hanging open with a scream loaded and ready to rip through the air.
What is it? A third arm? A second head?
Max reached below his chin and popped the top button of his coat. He looked up and smiled, unfastening the next button along. The coat opened further and revealed his tatty woollen sweater underneath. Below his hand, the fabric continued to bulg
e.
Jenkins’ head popped out and the dog peered around the cavernous room, his tongue lolling from the side of his mouth.
“Come on,” said Max and bent over. Jenkins leapt from within the coat and landed on his feet. He trotted around in a small circle, sniffing the air.
Max looked up at Nat. “You okay? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
“Just my imagination running wild,” she said.
A roar echoed out of the open hatch, and Jacob’s wide hand slammed down on the edge. He hoisted his body up and barely squeezed through the small space.
“Hate dumb ladder,” he said. He raised his hands over his head and stretched, the muscles on his shoulders and arms bulging.
Jenkins barked.
Nat spied Max frowning at the open doorway.
“It’s dawn,” he said. “I wanted to be back by light.”
“They fine,” said Jacob and walked past. “Herman can mind baby okay.”
“It’s not them I’m worried about,” said Max. He swallowed. “The light brings people, even in this desolate place. Let’s go find Alcazar and get back home, quick.”
Jacob had strode to the other side of the room, having passed under several thick chains and rusted pulleys. He grabbed a horizontal wooden beam and pulled himself up, hanging off it. To Nat, he looked like a clothed, shaven gorilla.
“Max worry too much.”
“Max is right to worry,” Max replied. “Let’s stop mucking about and get a move on.”
Squinting in the morning rays, he walked across the warehouse, his feet kicking up small clouds of dust with each step. Jenkins obediently trotted along beside. He created a trail of tiny paw prints running parallel to those of his master.
With a last hungry look at the open and inviting doorway, Nat followed. Though she still hated Jacob, she had to agree with him—the ladder had been gruelling. Her shoulders and biceps had stiffened, and a line of pain still throbbed across her palms from the near fall. The cuts from the twins also flashed with white-hot needles.
Jacob fell to the floor, his feet smashing into the ground. A boom echoed around the empty warehouse. Birds took to the air somewhere above them.
Max shot him an agitated glance.
With Jacob bringing up the rear, the group walked across the floor of the warehouse. At the other side, two ramps on either side led up to a raised platform and a dark archway stood beyond. From the set up, Nat guessed that when the warehouse was operational, trucks had backed up against the raised area for loading. Max headed up the nearest ramp and, without looking back, disappeared into the entrance. Nat and Jacob followed.
The corridor appeared to be in the same state as the warehouse, filthy and empty. Halfway along, Max stopped and turned left. Reaching his side, Nat saw a stairway leading upwards.
“Easier than the ladder,” said Max, and started towards them. The first few steps groaned under his feet in a ghostly sigh. Jenkins bounded up each step, his tail beating away.
Something poked Nat in the back, directly over her slash. She winced and snatched a breath through gritted teeth. She rubbed her stinging skin.
Jacob, his thick finger outstretched, pointed towards the stairs.
“Okay, okay,” said Nat, moving forwards. “Jesus!”
Max had already reached the first platform between floors and waited for them.
Like a sulky teenager sent to her room, Nat ascended the stairs, her feet slamming down solidly on each step. She didn’t care about staying quiet anymore. She’d start showing them some respect when they—or more accurately, Jacob—started showing her some.
They climbed flight after flight. Nat’s breath whistled, and her legs burned. She remembered the last flight of stairs she’d climbed, those of her apartment block, and it had been a lot more fun. A fleeting image of a smiling Simon flashed through her head, but it vanished at Max’s voice.
“This is the floor.”
A smell assaulted Nat’s senses, a dank and acidic stench.
“Sure?” asked Jacob. “They all look same.”
“Yeah,” said Max, “but this one stinks.”
He’s right. What the hell is that? thought Nat.
“Alcazar will be here,” said Max. He held out a gloved a hand. “It can get quite slippery.”
Unsure, Nat took his hand. He led her away from the stairs and into a murky corridor. The smell intensified. It transcended Nat’s sinuses to attack the taste buds at the back of her throat. She fought back the gags and held a hand over her face.
“I can’t believe you can stomach this,” she said, her voice muffled.
“When you come enough times…” said Max. “Anyway, it’s just until the end.”
The corridor turned to the left and Nat suddenly found herself standing in the intense rays of the sun. The light revealed a white splattering that covered the walls and floor. The corridor opened out into a vast room, a large hole in the far wall allowing the golden morning glow to flood in. Wooden beams crisscrossed just below the high ceiling, all coated in the creamy white mess, dripping down in places like melting wax. Despite the fresh air drifting in through the hole, the air still smelled foul and mouldy. Piles had accumulated to form dry and twisted pyramids on the floor, like fetid stalagmites.
“What the…”
“It’s shit,” said Max. “Bird shit.”
Jacob joined their side, fingers pinching his nose. “Even Herman don’t stink this bad.”
Around their feet, Jenkins sneezed and whipped his head from side to side.
“You don’t like it either, do you, pal.” Max bent down and scooped him up off the floor with his free hand, still keeping hold of Nat. He straightened up, Jenkins pressed against his chest. “Let’s find my brother; he’ll be in here somewhere.”
Walking further, Nat’s foot slid a few inches in the deep bird droppings. She clutched onto Max’s hand tightly to stop from falling.
“Whoa! You okay there?”
“Yeah,” she said, regaining her footing and ignoring Jacob’s sniggers.
Beyond the hole, the city spread out before them, shining gold by the rising sun on the horizon. Nat heard the distant hum of the early morning traffic, broken by the occasional car horn.
“It’s… beautiful,” she gasped, gazing at the sun.
Jacob snorted. “Take or leave.”
One of the piles of bird crap near the edge of the hole had begun to rise.
Nat cried out and took an unsteady step backwards. Max held her tight.
The white-splattered column rose to around seven feet tall and arms swept out to the side. Nat realised the mound was a large coat, completely covered in bird shit. Two hands, fingers curled into claws, held the coat out like a cape. The figure turned slightly, the early morning light creating an eclipse from the hooked nose. Two deep, dark eyes calmly surveyed them.
“Alcazar,” said Max. “Finally.”
The man smiled.
“Down!” shouted Jacob, already diving to the floor.
A question on her lips, Nat was pulled to the floor. She hit her knees and slid in the muck.
“What…?”
The air above her burst into life in a deafening cacophony of screeches and beating.
Holding her breath, Nat crouched into a tight ball and covered her head.
The dazzling rays of the sun darkened in a premature dusk. Behind the outstretched arms of Alcazar, the bright air grew speckled and buzzed with life.
“Down!” cried Jacob again. He had already spread out on the floor, lying on his front. He folded his arms over the back of his head.
“What? What’s happening?” Nat looked to Max.
“Better if you take cover,” he said and crouched. “Protect your head. They can be a little… excited.”
Alcazar continued to grin at them; the fading sunlight glinting in his wide eyes. An animated black cloud steadily neared the building, the individual members of the flock now visible. Through the hole drifted the furi
ous sound of beating wings.
The first of the birds entered the building and swept around Alcazar. Feathered pawns, they flew around the cavernous room, sharp calls echoing back and forth. Nat watched their meandering paths through the air. One of them, a small black bird with a vibrant yellow beak, stretched its wings and landed elegantly on a horizontal beam of wood. It turned and cocked its head in her direction.
“Watch out,” called Max. “Here come the rest!”
The air burst into life with a whoosh! from outside.
Nat ducked back down and covered her head.
Wind beat against her, and feathers drifted down like giant snowflakes. A glance up revealed a flurry of wings, a flash of claw, a glint of beak. The room seemed to vibrate with the din of calls and shrieks. The birds raced around the derelict space in a cyclone of white, grey and black.
“Can’t you calm them down?” shouted Max, his voice barely audible over the cacophony.
Alcazar stood silhouetted against the clear sky. The birds parted around him, a Red Sea of feathers. Nat wondered how they could fly so fast without colliding. She cried out and ducked down as one of them soared towards her. Its passing blew back her hair. She squealed.
“Alcazar!” roared Max.
“Oh, very well,” said a high voice.
Above, the chaotic mass of birds circled, slowing.
Nat watched on, amazed at the sudden order within the flock.
The majority landed on the various ledges and beams that criss-crossed the walls and ceiling. Some chose the floor, where they pecked and bobbed among the filth. In seconds, only feathers, swaying and dancing on the air currents, remained in the air.
“Jesus,” Nat whispered and peered around again.
His smile larger than ever, Alcazar lowered his arms and pulled his trailing coat around his thin frame.
With the air clear, Nat had the chance to study him in more detail. He’d been spared the disfigurements of Herman, Jacob and baby Edgar. He resembled the twins in some aspects. Whereas they shared similarities with the rats, this man had the distinct look of a bird. He appeared stretched; his arms and legs were grossly extended and it gave him the appearance of a vulture. His nose in particular, the way it hooked down, consumed his face, added to his avian appearance. His head sported several clumps of bushy white hair. Nat couldn’t tell if it just wasn’t more of the bird shit, which dotted his coat.
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