Escape

by Jeff Povey

  ‘Oh . . . ’ I again speak out loud and can see that Billie is already looking suspicious.

  ‘You’d do that?’ I repeat, this time over our private wavelength.

  ‘For you – anything.’

  Other-Johnson is not made of dark materials; he can’t be. Not when he’s ready to make a sacrifice like this.

  ‘I can’t let you do that—’ I transmit again only for him to interrupt me.

  ‘You want him and not me. I get that. So what’s a world without you in it, Rev? Either way I don’t win.’

  ‘You’ve got your Reva. You can’t let her go.’

  ‘I let her go when I kissed Billie.’

  He means Another-Billie, the would-be supermodel from his version of earth who has the power to heal. He kissed her and stole her heart too. That’s what I mean about his dark side. He can’t resist girls.

  ‘My Reva deserves better. And you probably do too.’ He adds his thoughts to mine. ‘But at least I gave it a whirl, right? I mean, I almost got you, yeah?’

  Our eyes meet and we both know that there’s no time for a discussion.

  ‘You whirled like no other,’ I transmit and cringe at the hideous words I just conjured. He deserves so much better than that.

  ‘This decision isn’t about your Johnson or the Ape. It’s about me and you. I can give you what you really want. And I promise you, Billie will never know that I’m not the right Johnson. Not ever.’

  ‘She’ll keep you here forever,’ I say, thinking of them stranded in a completely empty world.

  But he’s made up his mind.

  ‘This is my exit, Rev.’

  ‘Wait!’ I yell telepathically. ‘Hold your big hero horses. I still need to find the Moth. He’s the only one who read and understood my dad’s papers. We need your mind-scanning thing to work out where he is.’

  The papers explain how my dad crossed into alternate worlds. The Moth is the only one of us who has the brains to understand them. And, if he can do that, he can get us all back home. The only problem is that we have no idea where he is after several Black Moths kidnapped him from a speeding train.

  Billie summoned a hundred Moths to try and kill us. Not the butterfly type of moth, sadly, rather a doppelganger of our own Moth. The Black Moths appeared from thin air; monstrous panther-like versions of the original.

  ‘I’ll scan for him and try and contact you if I locate him.’

  ‘And GG?’ I still can’t face the fact that GG might be dead.

  ‘Rev . . . Let me end this.’

  I have no choice. We started worlds apart and it looks like we’ll finish the same way.

  ‘Then do it.’

  Other-Johnson stands a little taller and summons all the willpower he has. ‘See you in another universe.’ But even his telepathic voice is cracking.

  And, with that amazing power of his, Other-Johnson swaps minds and bodies with Johnson. No one can see it, or even sense it, but it has happened and I know I’ll never see Other-Johnson again.

  As soon as the switch is made, the Johnson next to me staggers a little, lurching as my Johnson finds himself suddenly in the wrong body. I snap out a hand and drag him upright on the dangerously tipping boat. He turns to me, but I silence any stunned reaction with a determined look that says: Don’t breathe a word, don’t say one thing.

  To his credit Johnson sucks up the shock and barely lets a breath escape.

  ‘Save the Ape,’ I finally tell Billie. ‘There. I said it. Take Johnson, save the Ape!’

  ‘It’s Dazza,’ the Ape pants, slipping and sliding on the sinking, tipping boat.

  But Billie has sensed something’s changed. She looks from one Johnson to the other. Her eyes narrow.

  A long sleek talon slips soundlessly from the tip of her index finger. An involuntary instinctive reaction to the sense of threat.

  My breath stalls in the back of my throat.

  Billie looks again from Johnson to Other-Johnson.

  She knows there’s something wrong. And I realise the longer I don’t say anything then the longer she will have to work out what’s just happened.

  ‘Save the Ape,’ I call to her, my voice a croak as I try to distract her. ‘Save him – please! I’ve made my call. I choose the Ape.’

  Billie continues to hesitate, but the Ape pulls himself on to all fours, one hand going to his bleeding stomach as he lifts his great square block of a head. He fixes Billie with all the deadly intent he can muster. If nothing else I’m praying he can distract her.

  ‘I’m so coming for you . . . ’ he pants.

  Billie doesn’t even hear him. It’s as if the wind has changed or there’s a subtle new scent in the air; things have shifted for her, imperceptibly, but enough for more dangerous talons to slide silently from her fingers.

  The Ape grunts as he pads like a sick and disoriented lion towards Billie, every movement using up more of his life. He probably believes he’s making progress but the tragedy is he’s barely moved at all. He trembles on uncertain limbs, drained of blood and muscle memory.

  ‘Billie,’ I try again. But she’s no longer listening, focusing instead on the Johnson standing next to her, trying to decide what’s changed. And all the while the boat continues to take on water and pitch slowly into the river.

  Billie leans in towards Other-Johnson who is now in Johnson’s body. She doesn’t sniff him as such, but she does try and get a sense of who he is by pushing her face as close as she can to his.

  ‘Who are you?’ she asks quietly. And with those words I know the ruse is up. What I thought was an outstanding moment of true heroism is going to be our total undoing. She will – literally – slice through the lie.

  But Other-Johnson stays calm. Meets her black soulless eyes with his sparkling blue orbs. He doesn’t miss a beat. ‘Me? I’m the one you’re meant to be with.’

  Billie’s arm rises, the talons are hit by that lone sliver of sunlight that seems to have hung around just so it can glint and highlight the death-dealing nature of her claws.

  ‘So got you . . . ’ I turn back to the Ape and see he’s starting to make headway. I can’t believe my eyes. ‘Used to like you, Billie . . . ’ he pants, as he throws one hand out after the other, one knee following with the second one close behind. ‘Not any more . . . ’

  Billie can’t help herself; the Ape has drawn her attention for a moment, and even she, as much as she loathes him, is quietly stunned by his resilience.

  ‘What the hell is wrong with you?’ she asks him, momentarily forgetting her Johnson dilemma, as she turns full on to the Ape. ’You’re dying, you imbecile!’

  ‘Not before you do.’ He stops and pulls himself to his knees, completely short of breath, and possibly minus two litres of blood.

  Billie is incredulous. ‘You saw what I can do.’

  ‘And you’ve seen what I can do,’ the Ape says as he tries to force himself upright.

  As ever he’s got it bang on; maybe fighting is the only way forward, that Billie’s impossible question was one I shouldn’t have even attempted answering because the solution was always option three . . . I need to take Billie on and I need to beat her. I scan the ship for something sharp to use as a weapon. If she really is half human and half alien then shoving something into her throat will kill her. The Ape found that out when their version of Lucas attacked him. It’s their soft spot, the only place of vulnerability. The Ape had a weapon earlier, some sort of snapped-off boat hook with a jagged edge, if I can just find that.

  The boat sinks lower and pitches towards its port side. Or starboard side. One of the sides, I don’t know which, and I don’t really care. The roll sends the Ape slumping back down.

  Billie laughs. ‘Look at him, back on all fours. Evolution in reverse.’

  But incredibly enough the sudden movement of the boat has sent the weapon the Ape made rolling into clear view. It makes a rattling sound and my eyes find it – the moment Billie’s eyes lock on mine. She reads in a heartbeat what my i
ntention is and it’s now a matter of speed and luck.

  I’m closer but she’s faster. She can leap through the air because her hybrid legs are sinewy and strong. She might get to the weapon first – and then again she might not. I could grab the sharp, snapped-off pole, twist as she lands on me and thrust it deep into her throat, saving the day at the last minute like in every movie when the good guy desperately needs to get ridiculously lucky.

  And I am the good guy here. Billie is not the friend she was. I’m fighting on the right side and the universe knows that, it must do to so coincidentally roll the weapon my way. I go for the pole – and can’t move a muscle.

  ‘No!’ Other-Johnson’s voice shouts into my mind and I realise he’s taken control of my body.

  ‘Let me go!’ I yell across our secret airwave.

  ‘No,’ he repeats as I try to break free of his hold. He did this before, when I went to find my dad in a private hospital and he forced me to walk up the stairs. My Non-Mum from the doppelganger world could use mind control to freeze people. She even took the whole town hostage to help us escape, but, unlike her, I think Other-Johnson is using the power of suggestion to trick my body into thinking I can’t move. If I can just break through that lie . . .

  The weapon keeps rolling across the deck and Billie looks like she’s waiting for the starter’s gun at the beginning of a race. She wants me to think I have a chance and then she wants to crush that chance, obliterate it. Johnson’s eyes are watching the rolling boat hook, now he’s in Other-Johnson’s alien body he knows he can reach it five times quicker than I can.

  ‘Rev.’ Other-Johnson stays as calm as he can. He knows Billie will kill me. ‘Don’t take her on. Don’t give her that excuse.’

  The weapon keeps rolling and the Ape has seen it as well. His near-dead eyes brighten considerably. It’s not his legendary three-pointer but enough to have something to fight with. The boat pitches further and the weapon trundles faster towards me. I need to break free of Other-Johnson’s mental control. I strain with all I’ve got as my shoulders bunch, and my foot finally slips forward. Billie is grinning; she is prepared to let the weapon roll ever closer to me, she’s that confident. My arm pushes through the fog of Other-Johnson’s auto-suggestion. The other arm follows and I’m suddenly moving.

  ‘You’ll never beat her,’ Other-Johnson all but begs me.

  But nothing is going to stop me grabbing it. I’ve been fighting for days on end and so far I’ve come out on top. Why should that change now? I lurch forward.

  But Johnson is quicker, and seeing me move he jumps forward, like the super-alien he is now, snatching up the weapon and turning on Billie. He only has a fleeting second to do this. And the fleeting second is so fleeting that even thinking about how fleeting it is means the moment is already lost. If he’d acted first and thought later, he could have, perhaps, maybe, got to Billie, driven her back, somehow defeated her. But the chance is gone.

  Then he hurls the weapon into the river. And I realise that attacking Billie was never his intention.

  The Ape howls, furious and bewildered. ‘Are you stupid?’ he wails with a raspy pained breath as lifelessness gets ready to claim him.

  Johnson looms large in Billie’s eyeline. ‘You’ve got what you wanted. You won. Now save the Ape.’

  A flicker races from Johnson to Other-Johnson, an invisible ripple. Ever since they met, Johnson has wanted nothing more than for Other-Johnson to disappear forever. And right now he basically has to do very little to ensure that happens.

  Other-Johnson mentally lets go of me and I almost fall flat on my face because I’m straining so hard to escape his bonds.

  Billie is about to respond when Other-Johnson pulls her towards him. ‘Come here.’ Other-Johnson kisses her with all the passion he has. Time freezes as his kiss marches upon her defences and lays waste to them. The kiss enters her veins and rides the blood canals to her heart. I know it because I’ve felt it twice now. The kiss that can fuse lives. Other-Johnson pulls back and Billie looks breathless and lost. She is transfixed as he gazes into her eyes.

  ‘Save the Ape!’ I bellow.

  Billie blinks a few times and emerges from her kiss-induced trance before looking directly at me.

  ‘Apologise.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘Apologise. You need to say you’re sorry to Carrie and GG and Lucas and the Moth,’ Her black eyes glint at me. ‘And say you’re sorry to me. Because all of this, Rev, everything that’s happened to the rest of us, it’s all your fault.’

  I’m thrown. Where did that come from? Carrie was cut down by Evil-GG, sliced to ribbons, and now that’s my fault? GG being thrown from the train, the Moth disappearing, Billie mutating into this monster? It’s all on me?

  ‘I’m waiting,’ she sneers.

  There’s no time to argue.

  ‘I’m sorry, Carrie! I’m sorry, GG! I’m sorry, Moth! I’m sorry!’ I yell. ‘I’m sorry for everything! It’s my fault!’ I scream, because I need this to be over, for her to save the Ape and leave us alone, but also deep down because part of me thinks it’s true.

  Billie lets a smile spread along her wide mouth. Finally she’s happy.

  ‘Now, please! Don’t let him die!’ I beg her.

  Billie slips an arm round Other-Johnson’s waist. ‘I’m not letting him die. You are,’ she says. ‘You said yourself this is your fault. Carrie, GG, the Moth, Lucas and now the Ape. All gone, and all because of you.’ And with that she grabs Other-Johnson and leaps from the sinking boat towards the bank of the river. Despite the distance, she lands effortlessly on the paved pathway running alongside the Thames, before turning to take in the jaw-dropping shock on my face.

  ‘Billie, we had a deal!’ I yell.

  ‘We also had a friendship. Look how that panned out.’

  SCHOOL’S IN

  It’s my first day back at school and I’m nervous. I’m wearing a brand-new school blazer and a pristine white blouse. I have shiny brogues and knee-length socks. I feel overdressed and ridiculous. No one wears the exact school uniform, no one I know can afford to, but here I am, decked out like some posh kid who has a butler lay out their clothes for them.

  The school in front of me is identical to the one we were so cruelly kidnapped from.

  But you already know it had to be. Because the world copies keep coming like a rampant photocopier has gone rogue and is spewing facsimiles of earth all over the office floor.

  I mean, you know the routine, right?

  That’s right. I’m on yet another earth.

  Mum smiles – I’ve started to refer to her as Mum because she may as well be my mum, but I can’t be totally sure. Every time her or my dad comes near me, my personal alarm system, the spider-sense samba, dances across my shoulders in a frinkly tingle. These two people can’t be my real parents. My inbuilt warning system is convinced of it.

  As part of the deal for me going back to school, I asked Mum to go out and buy me some hair dye. Electric-pink. My original colour, chestnut brown, had started to show through at the roots and that is not where I am in my life right now. As soon as I applied the colouring, I felt more like me again. The pink hair is my battle colour, the thing that sets me apart, and makes me feel more formidable. The reason I was thrown into detention in the first place was because of the hair. My pink hair is two fingers to the world. And that’s any world you care to mention.

  Thirteen days I spent in the flat they call home. But on the morning of the fourteenth day they presented me with my new school uniform and told me it was time to rejoin the human race.

  Assuming, of course, they are human.

  Despite the deal I made about the hair dye I still tried to squirm out of it, to say I wasn’t ready yet. But my dad said he’d signed me up and that the school was expecting me. Then Mum handed me the hair dye.

  ‘It’s time,’ is all Dad said.

  ‘It’s not time,’ I replied.

  ‘Your father needs to go back to work.’ Mum stepp
ed in.

  ‘Good for him, but what difference does that make to me?’ I was channelling every ounce of petulant teenager and only stopped short of slamming my bedroom door in their faces.

  ‘He wants to know everything is as it should be,’ she told me in her soothing tones. ‘He wants to be able to go to work knowing that you’re happy.’

  ‘He can’t guess that I’m not? He’s meant to be a genius and he can’t see that?’

  We – Mum and I – were talking about Dad like he wasn’t there, but of course he was, he just didn’t know how to get involved. Twelve years ago I was a caterpillar-obsessed four-year-old, but now he’s got a moody teenager to deal with. Both him and Mum have, and they’re doing their best to stay calm and reasonable.

  Well, not Mum really.

  Not even Non-Mum.

  Because this is New-Mum. My third female parent in as many weeks. A woman who is identical to my real mum right down to having the same worry lines. Though this New-Mum is more emotionally unhinged. Who wouldn’t be when your missing husband and daughter suddenly turn up out of the blue?

  ‘School will be fun,’ she assured me.

  School is only ever fun when you’re not there. The only bits I’ve ever enjoyed are between lessons. Though eventually it dawned on me that being at school would at least get me away from their mind-numbing happiness.

  ‘There’s nothing to worry about.’ My dad finally spoke. ‘Nothing at all. It’s all perfectly fine.’

  We haven’t said one word about the empty world that we were both trapped in. It’s as if it never happened. I’d tried a few times to bring up the subject, as in – what the mother-loving hell was all that about? But he shushes me, closing it down as quickly as he can. He tells me that he doesn’t want to upset New-Mum.

  But I know that he doesn’t want to talk about the empty world and what happened there for a very good reason. He knows as well as I do what he did to my friends. He also knows I’m constantly on the verge of tears and is desperate to avoid watching me dissolve into a total heap. He wants a perfect world without tears. He’s come a long way to get that, but I wonder how much further he’ll go to keep it.