Blue Dome (The Blue Dome Series)

by Gill, J. G.

  Troy stifled his laughter while I gulped inwardly – I suspected I was actually a lot weaker than I looked. I jumped down from the platform and waited with Calix, bracing myself for Troy’s impact. He landed heavily, bowling us back against the far wall of the tunnel.

  “Youch,” he said, wincing. Calix and I exchanged glances, silently agreeing to let Troy make the next move.

  “Okay, I think I’m all right,” he said eventually.

  The three of us hobbled slowly towards the arched mouth of the tunnel.

  “Hey, lucky swine, how did he end up with two women? I can’t even get one,” someone yelled as we passed the burning drums.

  “That’s because you’re a hairy meatball with a gammy leg,” someone else shouted. Laughter erupted from the crowd.

  “Hairy meatball,” guffawed a woman. “That’s a good one.”

  We ignored them and continued along the track. It was slow going, as Troy needed to stop every few steps to catch his breath. He’d gasp and wince, clutching his ribs in pain, as Calix and I took turns to ask how he was. After a while the words started to sound a bit hollow – it was pretty obvious how much pain he was in. Soon, the only sound was our feet crunching on the gravel, the wooden struts of the tracks stretching out in front of us like rungs on a dark, ghostly ladder. I was so paranoid about tripping over a strut that it took me a few minutes to realise that the tunnel was actually becoming lighter.

  “Hey, is that the end of the tunnel up there?” I said, pausing to glance up.

  “Where are you looking?” said Calix.

  “Up there. That greenish light.”

  Troy followed the direction of my finger. “Yeah, I think I see it too,” he said. “Not sure if it’s daylight though, the colour’s too strange.”

  “Yeah, I see it now,” said Calix. “Is it me or is it actually coming towards us?”

  “Dunno, is it?” said Troy.

  Peering into the gloom I could see what Calix meant – the light definitely seemed to be getting closer. There was also something else I’d noticed.

  “Can you hear those voices?” I whispered.

  Troy shook his head as Calix paused, concentrating.

  “I think I can,” she whispered back.

  Suddenly, someone coughed. Troy, Calix and I glanced at each other. The cough was quickly followed by a loud whisper.

  “Can it or they’ll hear us. Idiot!” The man’s voice sounded wheezy, as if he was out of breath.

  Troy’s face had suddenly become even paler. “Oh no, it can’t be,” he said.

  “Can’t be who?” said Calix.

  “Stanley and his lot. Quick, we’ve got to hide.”

  But it was too late. Before any of us could move, the full force of the green light was bearing down on us. A short, fat, sweaty man had his fist wrapped around the handle of a large fluorescent torch, his face ghoulish in the light.

  “So Troy, thought you’d come clean about Clare after all?” He turned to the two huge men standing either side of him. They both had robotic square heads and no necks. The one on the right was dark, with narrow-set eyes and tufts of hair sticking out of his ears. The other one had tight blond curls, watery blue eyes and a red bulbous nose. “I think you’ve met my associates before but, for the benefit of your lady friends, may I introduce Len and Morris.”

  “What do you want, Stanley?” said Troy.

  “Don’t play cute with me, boy. You knew where Clare was all along.”

  The mention of my name sent a cold, clammy shiver down my back. How did this guy know who I was and what did he want? I stared at him like a dumbfounded mullet, as large beads of sweat gathered on his forehead and threatened to roll down his face.

  “See boys, what did I tell you? The kid’s a filthy liar.” Stanley turned back to Troy. “You know, you’ve just proved we were too soft on you last time.”

  “What do you want?” said Calix.

  “Well girlie, that’s a good question. Let me see. First, we’d like Clare to come with us, like a good girl. Secondly, we’d like to show your friend Troy here what happens when someone lies to us. And thirdly, because you’ve now seen us, we’ll have to ask you to join our little party until we can find a convenient point to…” He paused, ominously. “…drop you off.” Len and Morris laughed like it was the funniest thing they’d ever heard.

  “You’re crazy if you think Clare and me are going anywhere with you!” Calix shouted.

  Stanley peered at her with his little squinty eyes. “Tell that to my boys here. I think you’ll find you don’t have a lot of choice.”

  “Oh yeah? Well try getting both of us to go with you when we’re biting, kicking and screaming,” said Calix.

  “Ooh, I’m frightened,” said the blond man.

  “Good one Len,” the other one pitched in.

  “Leave them alone, it’s me you want,” said Troy.

  “No, it really isn’t,” said Stanley. He flashed me a horrible, yellow-toothed smile. “It’s Clare we need. Just a shame we’ve now got to take her ratty-looking friend with us.”

  “Ratty?” said Calix. “Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately?”

  Troy shot her a warning glance – insulting Stanley about his looks was hardly going to help us.

  “Get her,” Stanley said to Morris, nodding in my direction. Before I could move, Troy stepped in front of me.

  “You’ll have to get through me first,” he said. Morris shrugged.

  “Yeah, whatever.”

  He swaggered towards us, his arms swinging from side to side like straps of leather that had been nailed to a rolling barrel.

  “C’mon!” I screamed, grabbing the back of Troy’s shirt and trying frantically to pull him away.

  Troy held his ground. He was now so close to Morris that he must have been able to smell the guy’s breath. As Morris reached round to snatch at me, Troy lunged at him, balling a fist into the middle of his stomach. There was a howl of pain, but unfortunately it wasn't Morris. Troy pulled back his limp hand, the thing sagging from his wrist as if it was broken. He was still trying to rub the life back into it when Morris simply swatted him across the tunnel, his body hitting the wall with a sickening thwack. Troy was now lying in a crumpled heap on the ground as I ran across to check on him. Calix was seconds behind me.

  “Are you okay?” I said.

  Morris’s heavy footsteps were now thudding towards us. I glanced over my shoulder to see how far away he was when Calix suddenly flew at him, sinking her teeth into his bare arm. He howled in anger.

  “Get her off me!”

  Len stepped forward and prised Calix away from Morris. She wriggled, kicked and gnashed her teeth, just like she’d promised.

  “Let me go,” she screamed. “Go top up your perm, Creep Show!”

  Len looked at her with disgust. “Stop it or I’ll break your arm.”

  Calix struggled a bit longer to make her point, before finally accepting it was futile. Glancing up, Morris’s huge, hulking frame was now looming over me. I was completely trapped.

  “Don’t touch me, I’ll come quietly,” I said, as he reached forward to grab my arm.

  “I doubt you’ll be going anywhere for a while,” said Morris, curling his lip mockingly at Troy. “We’ll come back to teach you a lesson once we’ve dealt with the girls.”

  “You leave them alone!” Troy shouted in a small, winded voice.

  Morris looked at him as if he was an irritating piece of gum stuck to the bottom of his shoe, before wrenching my arm and dragging me into the tunnel. I tried to wriggle free but it was hopeless, his hand was like a vice. Calix was now walking next to me, Len’s fist circling her arm.

  “Okay, I’m coming, you can let me go now,” she said.

  “No,” he said. “Don’t trust you.”

  “Arse,” muttered Calix under her breath.

  I caught her eye, silently communicating our mutual frustration, as we trudged in time to the sound of Stanley’s coughing and s
pluttering.

  CHAPTER XXVIII

  A fierce wind tore at the bars of the window as Bede stared out at the dark, hollow landscape. The moon hung low in the sky, hovering protectively above the heads of the distant houses. He turned back to the fire where Justin was lying on his stomach, his head resting in his hands as he watched the flames.

  “I think there’s going to be a storm tonight,” said Bede.

  Justin turned his head. “Yeah, I can feel the wind from here.”

  “How’s your back?” said Bede, collapsing next to Justin by the fire and spreading his palms towards the heat.

  “Okay…a bit sore. Skin feels like someone’s stuck huge strips of sellotape on it.”

  “The state you were in, man it was gruesome.”

  Justin rolled slowly onto his side and propped himself up on his elbow.

  “Hey, chuck me that lump of bread?” he said, nodding at a dry piece of crust on the far side of the hearth.

  Bede reached across, grabbed it, and pitched the small white square to Justin.

  “Thanks.” Justin paused. “Is this the last of it?”

  Bede nodded. “Yeah, but go on, I’m not hungry,” he lied.

  Justin glanced from Bede to the crust. “Nah, me neither.” He set the bread down in the middle of the hearth, as if sealing an unspoken pact between them.

  “I’m still trying to work out who actually left it here,” said Bede. “It’s got to be someone who works for Demarge, which I guess is a good sign – he must want to keep us alive.”

  “Well that’s comforting,” said Justin sarcastically. Bede laughed.

  “I guess it’s being grateful for small mercies and all that.”

  “Grateful for small mercies?” said Justin mockingly. “Where’d you get that from?”

  “Mum I guess. She used to say it to us when we were kids,” said Bede.

  “Yeah, my mum’s got a few of those old sayings as well,” said Justin.

  “You guys close?”

  Justin nodded. “Yeah. Real close. You?”

  Bede stared into the fire. “My mother died a long time ago. Car accident. We were pretty young at the time. Dad married again about three years ago.”

  “Is she all right?”

  Bede snorted. “No.” He could feel Justin looking at him, waiting for an explanation. “Turns out that she – Arlene – is actually Morana.”

  “What?” Justin laughed. “C’mon man, you can’t expect me to believe that!”

  “It’s true, seriously,” said Bede.

  “And you never knew?” Justin’s scepticism simmered beneath the words.

  “Nup.”

  “Your dad must have known?”

  Bede shook his head.

  “Really?” said Justin. “It’d be pretty hard to hide something like that.”

  “Well she did. Right up to when...” Bede looked away as he began to feel the tears prickling his eyes. “She killed him.”

  “No way,” Justin breathed.

  “I didn’t want to believe it at first, I couldn’t. But I know it’s true. Especially after what you said about Vince.”

  “Man, I’m really sorry,” said Justin.

  “Yeah, me too,” said Bede quietly. “We’ve got to find a way out of here so I can find Clare. I’ve searched this room for hours but there are no loose bricks, nothing. The place is solid.”

  “Do you know where we are? Can you see anything out of the window?” said Justin.

  “Nah, I’ve tried,” said Bede. He stood up, wandered back to the small, barred square in the bricks, and began staring at the grim line of the horizon. “The only thing I know for sure is that we’re up high. Everything else is just flat and dark.” He paused, his voice diminishing into a distracted whisper. “Everything except…”

  “What?” said Justin.

  “It’s weird, there’s a really bright light out there. It’s like a shooting star or something.”

  “That’s probably what it is then,” said Justin.

  “Maybe, but shouldn’t it be getting smaller, not bigger? And the colour, it’s changing. Come and look, it’s like a ball of red light, heading straight for us.”

  “It’s probably nothing.” Justin rolled over and closed his eyes. “In fact, it’s probably just something that happens every day, but we don’t notice it, living in the city where there’re so many other lights.”

  “No, seriously, this is different,” said Bede. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

  Justin sighed. “I’m going to sleep. Catch you tomorrow.”

  Bede continued to stare at the red light drawing closer and closer towards the window. It was now so vivid that he was squinting to keep track of it. He tried to shield his eyes with his arm, but even that wasn’t enough to block out the searing brightness.

  “What the…?” Bede tore himself away from the window and flattened his back against the adjacent wall. “Get down!” he screamed.

  Justin glanced up just in time to see a burning ball of red light hurtle through the window and slam against the far wall. Boiling sticks of iron twisted like the branches of tortured trees on the windowsill where the bars used to be.

  “What’s that?” said Justin, staring at the pulsing orb at the end of the room.

  Bede was too stunned to speak. The light was now a dull red and more like a solid block of plastic than a fuzzy ball.

  “I think it’s cooling down,” he eventually stuttered.

  “And changing shape. It’s like it’s growing arms.” Justin pointed to the nodules budding at the corners. A fifth was also now starting to sprout.

  “Don’t tell me that’s a head,” said Bede, horrified.

  The light continued to stretch and morph until it clearly had a nose, then a mouth. Two bumps later and a pair of eyes flickered open. Within minutes a fully formed man was standing in the middle of the room.

  “Apologies for the dramatic entrance,” he said. “I’m Daden.”

  Bede and Justin exchanged bewildered glances.

  “Daden?” Bede repeated dully.

  “That’s correct.”

  “Who…or what…the hell are you?” said Bede.

  “Let me guess, one of Demarge’s thugs?” said Justin. “Nice act, by the way. I guess they taught you all that stuff at stunt school?”

  Bede shot Justin a warning glance – getting sarcastic with a guy who could melt iron didn’t seem like such a smart move.

  Daden smiled. “No, I don’t work for Demarge. Quite the opposite. I’m here to help you get out.”

  “Whoa, hang on a minute, I think you’ve some pretty serious explaining to do first,” said Bede.

  “Like I said, my name’s Daden. The rest I can explain once we’re out of here.”

  “How exactly do you plan on doing that?” said Bede.

  “Through the window. I’ll carry you.”

  “Righto,” said Bede sarcastically.

  “What if we don’t want to go with you?” said Justin.

  “Then you can take your chances with Morana.”

  “Morana? What do you know about her?” said Bede.

  “You mean, aside from the fact that she’s the Angel of Death?”

  “The Angel of Death?” said Bede, repeating each word slowly.

  “Yes. You and your sister were lucky to escape from her,” he said.

  Bede seized on his words. “How do you know my sister?”

  “I’ve met her, briefly.”

  “So you know where she is then?”

  “Not at this precise moment, no. My friend is currently trying to find her in the Old Town. We need to hide her somewhere safe.”

  “Is she in some sort of danger?” said Bede.

  Daden looked away evasively. “You are all in danger. It’s why we need to get you out of here, as soon as we can.”

  He’d barely finished speaking when a dark shadow fell across the floor, drawing everyone’s attention to the window. A curtain of long, black feathers droo
ped like eyelashes across the sash, shining oily purple-green in the glow of the hearth.

  A figure slipped deftly over the twisted iron stumps and landed noiselessly in the room. Her harp-shaped wings folded neatly against her back and her long, wavy black hair fell loosely around her face. The woman’s pale skin was flushed from the cold, making her eyes even more luminously green.

  “Well, well, if it isn’t Daden.” The woman’s voice was like silk, shot with a lot of black thread.

  “Morana.” Daden’s eyes narrowed warily.

  “Daden, Master of the Understatement, if not quite the Universe.”

  He ignored the jibe. “I’m taking the Shards, Morana, they’re ours,” he said.

  “They’re yours? Really? How’s that?”

  “The light they carry. It’s ours. We both know that.”

  Morana shrugged. “Fair enough.” Her hand slid inside her leather jacket, drawing out the largest carving knife Bede had ever seen. The thick blade glistened coldly silver-grey, as Morana ran her eyes down the length of it admiringly. “If it’s the light you want, let me cut it out for you.”

  “You don’t need that,” said Daden softly.

  Morana smiled. “True. I could just reach into their chests and rip their hearts out.”

  Justin shot Bede a terrified look, which Morana caught in mid-flight.

  “Justin.” She shook her head sadly. “It’s a shame you had to betray Demarge. You could have had a wonderful career with him, but that’s all history now. Still, call me a softy, but I won’t make you the first to meet my lovely knife.” She turned to Bede, her voice hardening like tempered steel. “After all, I’ve wanted to kill this one for a long time.”

  Bede could no longer contain himself. “You evil bitch!” he shouted.

  Morana calmly tilted the knife, allowing the firelight to glance off the metal and bounce playfully around the walls.

  “Why don’t you come over here and say that?” she said.

  Before Bede could answer, Daden stepped forward, blocking Morana’s path.

  “Well that’s hardly fair, Daden,” said Morana. “I should at least have one of them.”

  “You’ll need to get through me first,” he said.

  Morana yawned, shielding her mouth with the knife in mock politeness.