THE POWER AND THE FURY

by James Erith

  Isabella was scribbling furiously in her notebook. ‘Just watch for me a minute – you know, commentate like they do on telly.’

  She didn’t need to. The groan told her everything.

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘The ball trickled past Archie – he should have saved it. All he had to do was put his foot out. Two-all. Ninety-nine times out of a hundred he’d have had that.’

  Isabella stood up and thrust the paper into Sue’s overcoat pocket. ‘Ye of little faith, Sue Lowden,’ she said. ‘You’ll see. Daisy will score again. I’ll bet you a real barometer she does!’

  Another roll of thunder boomed and cracked. More spectators headed off.

  Sue’s stomach lurched. It was now or never. She grabbed her friend and faced her. ‘Bells, we must get out of here. I mean it. But listen to me first. If it starts raining, this pitch will be a river in less than ten minutes. It’s important—’

  ‘Please, Sue. Just shut up!’ Isabella snapped as she turned back to the game. ‘Get the ball to de Lowe,’ she screamed. ‘Give it to Daisy!’

  She turned to Sue. ‘Listen, hun, tell me whatever is so damn important at the end, OK. There’s less than five minutes to go and it’s two-all in the most important match of my brother and sister’s life. Just give it a break for five minutes. Five minutes.’

  And with that, Isabella sidled out onto the pitch, ran down the touchline and dived in among some spectators further down.

  Archie stomped around the penalty area, his face burning with shame.

  For some reason, just before the Chitbury player stepped up to hit the penalty, it came to him; the person he’d seen way up on the steps heading into the alley was Kemp. It could only have been Kemp. For a start, his orange hair was a complete giveaway and secondly he was wearing a long coat – Cain’s coat – that dragged along the floor.

  Instantly, he knew Kemp must have been checking out whether there was any truth to what he’d told him earlier about meeting Cain.

  Intense confusion filled him and all he wanted was to run up there and find out what Kemp was up to.

  In the very next instant, the ball trickled past him into the goal, even though the Chitbury striker had totally miss-hit the ball. The whistle shrilled as a collective groan eased around the ground. Daisy would be furious with him. Isabella’s reaction didn’t bear thinking about.

  If Cain was there and Kemp had gone to find him, would Cain know? Would he care? But surely he was the one who was going to receive the power of a horse and strength of a lion, not Kemp.

  He grabbed the upright and kicked the base of the post again. He felt he’d accomplished nothing – only given things away, like a vital goal and the opportunity for something extraordinary.

  The more he thought it through, the more certain he was that Kemp was still there. And the angrier it made him feel. All I ever do is look on hopelessly, he thought. When will I stop being so average and pathetic?

  A slow-burning fury started moving through his body. It was an anger borne of frustration and annoyance and it was beginning to consume him.

  ‘Now, look,’ Kemp said pulling himself together. ‘If you ask me, you need help.’ He drew himself up, his confidence returning. ‘All that forty days and nights rain stuff happened a very long time ago in this book called ‘The Bible’. But I don’t see any ark or animals.’

  ‘Look above you, Archie,’ the ghost said.

  ‘Yeah, right,’ Kemp said. ‘A few dark clouds. Big deal. Hey! Is that a lion?’ He pointed down the alleyway. ‘And look – two kangaroos and a couple of woolly mammoths. Excuse me, freak, but I’m outta—’

  ‘No – you – are – not,’ said the old man, spitting each word out so severely that Kemp fell back on the ground. ‘Out of all the people on this puny planet, I’ve selected you. So be grateful, Archie de Lowe, because I’m giving you the chance to save your life. There is no other way.’

  Kemp squealed and looked down the passage. What was holding him back? Why didn’t he run? Why didn’t he say that he wasn’t Archie? But he felt oddly dizzy – as if a force was holding him against his will – like an elastic band stretched out only to rebound.

  ‘You need convincing,’ the old man said, his voice as smooth as honey once more. ‘This has come as a shock, so I’m going to show you something to … reassure you. All I’m asking for is a little co-operation.’ The old man took a step back. ‘Please turn your attention towards the dark sky. Watch it closely.’

  Kemp stood up, his knees barely able to hold him.

  ‘You see, I’m going to tell you the story of what has happened so far and then I’m going to tell you what will happen next. Do you understand?’

  Kemp nodded.

  ‘Good. Firstly, let me tell you about that piece of paper in your pocket. Then I’ll explain who you are and how you are going to help me.’

  Archie was about to kick short from the goal kick, but, from out of the corner of his eye, he saw Daisy in yards of space on the halfway line, catching her breath after the last attack. Could he reach her? It was worth a try. He pushed the ball ahead, ran up, and thumped it hard. The ball rose high into the air.

  Daisy saw it and ran ahead, her eyes never leaving the ball. She took it down in her stride and, with a burst of speed, she tore past one player then another. Then she stopped so suddenly that another over-ran and she side-stepped one more who fell over. The crowd roared – this was Daisy at her best.

  ‘D-D-L, D-D-L, D-D-L – she will, she will – ROCK YOU!’ the crowd chanted.

  Daisy side-stepped another and with a burst of speed headed towards the penalty area with real menace. Four Chitbury players lay sprawled on the floor, only one more to beat.

  ‘Go on Daisy, you can do it,’ Archie screamed.

  Archie watched as the remaining defender was sold a beautiful dummy, which Daisy seemed to do with such ease it was laughable, and as she pushed the ball past and effortlessly made her way around him, the defender slid out a leg and tripped her – quite deliberately. Daisy stumbled and fell but she wasn’t giving up. She crawled towards the ball and then, even as she lay on the ground, with the ball wedged between her knees, she somehow still managed to keep moving.

  But a cry went up as three Chitbury players and the goalkeeper converged on Daisy. It felt as if Daisy had fallen into a trap as the Chitbury boys cocked their legs back and kicked out, striking more of Daisy than the ball. And then they kicked her again and again in a kind of frenzy, with Daisy refusing to give the ball up.

  The crowd swayed and screamed and then fell silent. They could quite clearly see Daisy’s face contorting as kick after kick rained in on her.

  A boom of thunder echoed around the silent field as the crowd watched in startled amazement.

  Archie couldn’t believe it. Where was the referee? This wasn’t football, it was violence.

  He thumped the goalpost. How had he missed saving that penalty? He shook his head and looked up. The giant, angry bruise in the sky now stretched above him like a vast, black, monstrous airship. It sagged so low he felt he could jump up and burst it as easily as pricking a balloon. Perhaps Isabella’s experiments weren’t so crazy after all.

  The heady smell of damp filled his nostrils as another crack of thunder escaped. Archie felt the blood boiling inside him. Now there were five of them surrounding Daisy. She managed to stand, but one of them pushed her over.

  That was the final straw. Anger flooded through him. No one, Archie seethed, does that to my sister.

  He gritted his teeth, but he couldn’t control himself. He found himself running down the pitch, the crowd baying, the referee shouting, desperately trying to separate the players, but everyone, it seemed, was fighting.

  ‘NO! Don’t retaliate, Archie—’ he could hear someone yelling. But it was too late, he was already there and it seemed as if hell had broken loose.

  One of the Chitbury boys was holding Daisy’s hair and leering at her, screaming at her. Archie grabbed him by the coll
ar and threw him away, as if he were a doll. The boy sailed through the air and landed in a heap on the ground. Then Archie punched another hard on the nose and he thought he heard crunching sounds, then found himself receiving blows but he couldn’t feel them.

  Blood coursed through his body and he felt strong and powerful – invincible. A couple of Chitbury boys jumped on him but he easily beat them off. Then he found another hitting Alexander. He smashed the boy hard in the stomach and threw him away like a piece of litter.

  The whistle shrilled.

  Finally a sharp, stern voice rose up out of the melee. It was Isabella. Archie could see her marching towards them. Uh-oh, he thought. He was in for it now.

  Archie looked around and found a couple of Chitbury boys and the referee staring at him with their eyes wide open. Were they looking at him in fear? It was a sensation he’d never really experienced before. He noticed the four boys he’d hit still lying in agony on the floor. Blimey, he’d done that.

  Archie wiped his brow and allowed himself a smile. It felt strangely good.

  For the first time in her life, Sue could feel the sensation of utter panic building up in her veins like a bubbling chemistry experiment. A series of flashes filled the sky, mirroring the extraordinary scenes of fighting on the pitch. Lightning fizzed and crackled in the dark cloud, forming – for a brief moment – a picture.

  Sue gasped. A boy.

  Then a thunderclap smashed overhead so loudly that the crowd cried out. Shrieks and screams filled the football field.

  Sue fell to her knees, barely able to think, her body shaking. No! It can’t be! It’s not possible. It’s ... it’s ... Kemp’s face – the lightning was Kemp’s face super-imposed in the cloud. But how, how was it possible?

  She looked around. Where was Isabella? Had she gone already; left her? Surely not. She followed the eyes of the crowd.

  Oh NO! Isabella was striding towards the fighting on the pitch.

  ‘STOP! ISABELLA, STOP!’

  There was no reaction.

  Without thinking, she took off after her. ‘Isabella, LISTEN!’ she screamed as she ran. ‘It’s you!’

  She ran on further.

  ‘The dream is about your family, the de Lowes.’ She sensed Isabella slowing down. ‘You must ALL survive until sunset. Do you understand? SUNSET. YOU MUST STAY ALIVE.’

  Her voice was petering out as she realised she was screaming herself hoarse. She sucked in a deep breath.

  ‘Find clues in your house – Eden Cottage. You must find the clues.’

  Sue coughed and then repeated the last part, adding, ‘GO! GET HOME! NOW!’

  She noted some of the crowd staring at her as if she was a madwoman. But she didn’t care, not one little bit.

  A loud ice-clear voice cut through the air: ‘STOP IT – NOW!’ It was Isabella’s and she was striding towards the players with a sense of purpose.

  The teams almost instantly ceased brawling. Isabella’s direct approach had that effect on people.

  ‘You’re pathetic – all of you,’ she shouted, pointing at various individuals. ‘It’s like a wrestling match for the Under 5s. Chitbury – especially you three – should be utterly ashamed of yourselves.’

  Isabella scooped up the ball. ‘And as for the refereeing – it’s a disgraceful display. Twelve deliberate fouls by blue totally unaccounted for and you haven’t even got the balls to book them, let alone send them off for repeated violent conduct.’

  The football smacked into the referee’s hands. ‘What has the world come to when—?’

  Before she had a chance to finish she was grabbed by Coach and Mr Bellwood who hauled her off her feet and away to the sidelines.

  The referee responded by pointing rather belatedly at Isabella. ‘GET HER OFF!’ he yelled. ‘You’ll be dealt with later by the authorities.’

  He blinked, trying hard to pull himself together. Why couldn’t he remember the procedure for dealing with a brawl? It felt as if his brain had emptied.

  ‘And along with that madwoman, Upsall numbers one and eight, and blue players five, seven and four,’ he said pointing at the Chitbury players. ‘GET OFF THIS PITCH.’

  The referee waved his red card at the players and scribbled in his book.

  Another huge slap of thunder exploded almost directly overhead. A terrible feeling crept right up his back sending his hairs erect.

  The ground shook.

  ‘Direct free kick to red,’ he said, quickly pointing to a spot just outside the penalty area. ‘And the quicker we’re out of here, the better.’

  He studied his watch. Less than a minute to go, thank the Lord. The girl was right. It had been a dreadful performance. He couldn’t think why. Maybe it was this huge cloud that was sitting bang on top of his back.

  Whatever it was, by God, he wanted this game finished with.

  Archie shrugged and started walking. Moments later he was running. He couldn’t complain – more than anything, he had to find out what Kemp was up to – and fast. If he was right, there wouldn’t be much more time left. His stomach churned as a darkness seeped into his bones that something terrible was about to happen.

  The clouds crashed and boomed. Spectators began to flee to the school buildings. Without looking back, Archie sprinted off the pitch towards the steep bank that led up towards the town.

  24

  The Prophecy

  There was more, Sue thought, much more, but she’d said it; she finally said what needed to be said. Thank goodness she’d had the presence of mind to scribble down her dreams the moment she’d woken up. Now she had to get out of there – and fast.

  ‘GO! Run! – run, all of you,’ she yelled at the spectators. ‘It’s going to break. The storm’s going to break.’ Thunder rolled out of the sky. She ran as fast as she could up the slope towards the buildings. She had to find a way out.

  As she passed the top end of the ground she spied Gus leaning on the lamppost near to the kissing houses. She sprinted towards him. ‘Gus. What are you doing?’

  ‘Following Kemp – he’s been acting weird all afternoon. Are we winning?’

  ‘Listen Gus,’ she said as she caught her breath. ‘Rain … like you’ve never seen … you’ve got to get out of here and fast.’ Her hand touched some paper in her pocket and she pulled out Isabella’s note. ‘You’ve got to believe me.’

  Gus rolled his eyes. Had she gone completely doolally?

  She started to read it out loud:

  ‘My best friend, Sue, there’s a boat in the old shed. Key under a pot by door – oars on side. Canopy in cupboard … just in case. Love you. Be safe – Bells.’

  Sue kissed it in relief; clever, brilliant Isabella.

  Gus grabbed the note. ‘What’s up with you two?’

  ‘Look at the sky, Gus. When that ‘thing’ bursts it will rain harder than you can possibly imagine. In minutes the water will flash. I had a premonition – I’ll tell you about it—’

  ‘A premonition? Blimey. Cool. You sure?’

  ‘Absolutely. No one has a chance. Can you drive? Do you have access to a car?’

  ‘Of course I don’t!’

  ‘Nor me,’ she fired back. ‘Some of the kids have gone but I’m being picked up later, after the music.’

  ‘Same,’ Gus said, trying to keep pace with her.

  ‘Then we’re stuck, Gus,’ she said. ‘Screwed. There’s no way out.’

  ‘Stuck? What are you talking about? Why should we be stuck?’

  ‘Look, Gus,’ she said. ‘I promise you I’m not crazy, I’m deadly serious and I’m right. This cloud isn’t holding an ordinary storm, when it lets go it will be utterly catastrophic. Come on, keep up.’

  Gus frowned. ‘You really are serious, aren’t you?’ he said, the smile slipping off his face.

  ‘Never more so.’ She stopped to catch her breath again. ‘Please, Gus,’ she began, ‘I need your help. Will you help me? Please?’

  Gus scratched his nose. He liked Sue even if she was a bit o
f a nerd, not that it really bothered him; at least she was a pretty nerd. The person who bothered him was Kemp and, more than anything, he’d like to knock him down a peg or two. Gus carried on thinking; he had certainly never seen her quite so animated. ‘OK. I think I’m going to have to trust you on this one. Where do we start?’

  ‘Oh great! Thanks, Gus,’ Sue said, moving in and hugging him. If she was going to do this, better to do it with big, strong Gus Williams than by herself. ‘First off, provisions. Food; high-energy snack bars, chocolates, lemons, dried fruit, tinned food like tuna and baked beans, sweetcorn, a couple of lighters, bottled water,’ Sue rattled off, ‘blankets – if you can find any. Anything you can get hold of. Come on,’ she urged him to keep up. ‘You’re the Scout leader, aren’t you? So you know – stuff we can survive on.’

  ‘To the shop, then,’ Gus said, smiling his rather big, toothy smile and suddenly feeling rather important.

  ‘I’ve got about eighteen pounds from the footie snacks and drinks. I’ll pay it back later.’ Sue did some calculations in her head. ‘Actually, that’s probably not enough. Have you got anything?’

  Gus shoved his hands in his pockets and pulled out some change, ‘Just short of four pounds.’

  Sue grimaced. ‘In that case, Gus, I hope you don’t mind but you’re going to have to steal – come on, there’s not a minute to lose. When we get in there, grab some bags and start filling them. Don’t hesitate or stop but do not be stupid about what you take. When it’s done I’ll drop the money on the counter and we run. Alright.’

  ‘Blimey, Sue. What if we get stopped?’

  ‘We won’t. Oh, and if necessary, use force. Do you understand?’

  Gus nodded and handed over his money. His eyes were bulging with surprise. ‘Where are we going afterwards?’

  ‘The boatshed.’

  ‘Boatshed? What boatshed?’

  ‘The old shed by the river.’ She waved her hand in its rough direction. ‘We should have time to sort out some kind of cover and find some survival things ... then we’re going to have to hope for the best. I don’t know what we’ll find when we get there but at the moment it’s our only chance.’