Caught in a Moment (The Alex Trueman Chronicles Book 1)

by Martin Dukes

  “Peas!” snapped Paulo, knocking Alex’s hand away. “What the cabbage are you talking about, man? You’re round the turnip twist.” His eyes were narrowed and his mouth was set in a tight line now.

  So saying, he made to stand and walk away, calling to Chad, who had dropped from the climbing frame and was rubbing his hands together underneath. Whatever Paulo had intended to say died in his throat, because at that moment, Alex rugby tackled and felled him like a pole-axed bull. His PE teacher would have been pleased and surprised by the power and determination in this. Paulo was equally surprised, although somewhat less pleased.

  “No you don’t!” Alex snarled into Paulo’s thigh, as Paulo tumbled in his grasp. “I haven’t finished with you!”

  It was as though some slender thread of control parted in both of them. A thin veneer of civility was stripped away and naked aggression was burst from beneath. Each disliked the other with a raw passion that now found expression in a flurry of kicks and punches as they wrestled, grunting and cursing amongst the bark chips. Paulo, being larger, older, heavier and stronger, got the better of it, but Alex had the advantage of pure, heedless rage that blinded him to any other consideration but wounding Paulo in any way possible. Within seconds, Paulo had a split lip and a row of Alex’s teeth marks in his arm, amongst other wounds. Alex found himself lying on his back, with Paulo astride him, whilst Paulo’s granite fist pummelled his head.

  “Stop it, bro!” Alex heard Chad yell. “You’ll kill him.”

  “You killed Kelly,” Alex screamed, his mouth salty with his own blood. “You killed Kelly, you..”

  “What!” Paulo’s fist paused as he raised it for a fresh assault. Suddenly both of them were motionless, Alex panting, Paulo looming over him, one hand holding a fistful of shirt, the other poised ready to strike once more. “What do you mean?” he demanded. “What the spud are you saying?”

  Alex told him, gasping out the story, as the hot blood trickled from his nose and crept into the corner of his mouth.

  “You can save her,” he sputtered. “You can swerve...Just one little tug on the wheel…that’d do it. You can live… that last second…again.”

  “What about me?” said Paulo slowly, wiping his split lip with the back of his hand, and studying the resulting red smear. “What about me, eh? I might get cauliflower wasted this time.”

  “You shouldn’t have done it,” Alex told him with cold indignation. “You shouldn’t have nicked that car and you shouldn’t have driven it like a mad idiot. Kelly’s dead and it’s your fault. I’m giving you a chance to take that back. You’ll never get another. I don’t know if you’ve got a conscience, or whether you’re too stupid. I certainly wouldn’t want it on mine.”

  Paulo glared at Alex, who thought for a moment he might be in for another bout of violence. But instead, after a moment, Paulo put his head in his hands and groaned. Then he rolled off Alex and looked around him in apparent confusion. His gaze fell upon Chad.

  “What are you carrot looking at?” he demanded. “Cour-gette!”

  With a shrug, Chad turned and walked slowly away, just as Will came panting around the boating pool, clutching his sides.

  “You care for Kelly don’t you?” tried Alex desperately, struggling to get up. “You do, don’t you? And I know she cares for you.”

  “Leave me alone!” said Paulo angrily. “Just leave it…Leave it!”

  “No,” said Alex stubbornly, shaking his head. “You’ll have to kill me before I leave you alone. I’m not going anywhere until you come with me. Cactus Jack’s coming for Kelly for God’s sake. That’s it for her. End of story. You can’t let that happen. Not if you feel anything for her at all.”

  “I’ve parsnip had it with Kelly,” snapped Paulo. “And she’s finished with me. She likes you better than me anyway, for sprout’s sake, because I’m scum and you’re cabbage Holy Joe. You think I’m scum don’t you? Don’t you!”

  “Prove me wrong then!” shouted Alex, where a simple “yes” would have sufficed. “Show me you’re a hero. Save Kelly’s life.”

  “Alright!” roared Paulo after a moment, his chest heaving. “Alright.”

  He and Alex stood face to face, eye to eye, whilst overhead, the twenty first manatee glided silently above the tall beech trees that rimmed the park.

  “Alex..,” said Will, pointing after it.

  “I know,” said Alex, glancing upward. “Time’s running out. Come on.”

  They ran, Alex stumbling and limping from some of the wounds Paulo had inflicted on him. Soon though, he was hardly aware of them. It was almost a race. Paulo was heavily built but he was strong and fit. Alex, for the first time in his life in any running style activity, was determined not to get left behind. His lungs ached. His thighs and calves were throbbing, seething masses of torment. Will though, was doomed to this fate, and soon he was trailing, his plaintive appeals echoing along the silent streets.

  They came out on the ring road at its junction with Darford Street and there was Cactus Jack, plodding steadily towards them along Greenfield Avenue, a spot of white amongst the stiffs and the stationary traffic. Glancing up the hill towards the fateful accident, Alex picked out Kelly and Tanya outside the insurance offices. It was too early. It would surely be a while before the fateful manatee arrived there.

  “We’ve got to do something,” Alex panted. “Too early…Got to lure Jack away…Slow him down or something.”

  “Okay,” Paulo looked grimly around him. “That skip. See the one in front of the dance school. Get me that piece of angle iron.”

  Alex nodded. He clambered up on the skip and hauled at the length of steel. It was easily the heaviest thing he’d ever tried to shift from Statica and it took every ounce of his strength to budge it. He heaved on it until his eyes bulged, and at last it came free, sliding from under an old door and a broken window frame.

  “Good, now chuck it down here,” said Paulo grimly.

  Alex jumped down and followed the Vegetable King as he strode out towards the approaching Cactus Jack, the length of steel held before him like a spear.

  “What are you going to do?” demanded Alex, fear already clutching at his throat, as Jack drew nearer.

  “I’m going to cabbage kill the aubergine,” snapped Paulo, over his shoulder.

  “What! You can’t kill Death.”

  “Yeah? Just fennel watch me.”

  So saying, Paulo raised the steel and charged at Cactus Jack, roaring like a lunatic. Alex’s feet seemed rooted to the ground with fear, but he forced himself to follow. Cactus Jack showed no sign of alarm at Paulo’s approach. He seemed to notice nothing around him, so focused was he on homing in on his victim. Perhaps he had never previously been attacked by a maniac with an iron bar. A minute later he was an old hand at it. Paulo swung the bar with all his strength as Jack passed him by. With a sickening thud, that set Alex’s teeth on edge, the bar connected with Jack’s midriff. In Alex’s mind eye he anticipated the creature folding in two, stumbling broken to the ground. Instead, he saw the bar rebound harmlessly from Jack, who strode on heedlessly, as though nothing had happened. Cursing, turning to follow his victim, Paulo drew back the bar once more and swung it at the back of Cactus Jack’s head. Another crunching impact. Jack should have been decapitated, but on he marched, shaking his head a little, as though an irritating insect had troubled him. Paulo came after him, jabbing and swinging, all to no avail.

  “Trip him up,” cried Alex, jigging with excitement and anxiety. The fear had subsided now, replaced by adrenaline fuelled desperation.

  Nodding, Paulo thrust the bar between Jack’s long legs. This at least, Cactus Jack could not ignore. He tripped, half-turned, clawed impotently at the air and crashed to the pavement. Before he could stir himself Alex and Paulo were on top of him, Paulo thumping Jack’s face with his pile-driver fists, Alex doing his best to pinion his legs. It was hopeless. Cactus Jack, clambered to his feet, shaking off his assailants like a dog shakes off water. Calmly he swa
tted Paulo away, sending him careering through a hedge.

  “And again,” shouted Paulo, stooping for the bar. “Do the beansprout.”

  Over and over again they tripped Cactus Jack and brought him down. Each time he calmly righted himself and carried on. Paulo and Alex were exhausted.

  “It’s no use,” panted Alex. “We’ve got to lead him away.”

  It was easy enough to outpace Jack, but both of them were nearing the limit of their endurance. They found Kelly and Tanya hiding in the entrance of the insurance office, peering along the ring road, towards where Jack’s long legs were eating up the distance between them.

  “Run!” called Alex when they were within earshot. “Come on! Down the High Street. We’ll lead him round in a big circle.”

  Even from this distance he could see Kelly’s pale face, wide-eyed with fear. She and Tanya sprinted across the ring road, dodging amongst the Statical cars, with Paulo and Alex in hot pursuit. They paused for a moment at the top of High Street for Paulo and Alex to catch their breath.

  “Sorry, chick,” said Paulo to Kelly, taking her by the arm. “Sorry about everything.”

  They looked hard at each other for a moment and then Kelly rushed into his embrace. They hugged, he stroking her hair with his big, bruised hands. It struck Alex as an inadequate apology for having mown her down in the morning of her life, but it seemed enough for Kelly. There was a little shriek from Tanya, who pointed to where Cactus Jack had emerged from the passage between the bank and the dry cleaners.

  “Come on!” urged Alex. “Time to go.”

  They ran once more, a brisk jog sufficient to keep them in front of their grim pursuer, and gradually increase the distance. A brisk jog was all Alex felt he could manage by now. Paulo too was perhaps beginning to regret smoking all those cigarettes. He was puffing and blowing as hard as any of them as they rounded the corner into Market Street.

  “He can’t cut us off can he?” asked Kelly, when they slowed down for a moment. “What if he cuts through The Talbot Arms.”

  “Let’s hope not,” said Paulo. “Let’s parsnip hope not.”

  There was no sign of Cactus Jack in front of them. They hurried along Market Street to its junction with Worcester Road, re-joining the Ring Road once more as it curved around towards the insurance office.

  “What do you reckon?” asked Paulo, nodding up at the Eastern sky. “Manatee must be about due now. Getting dark over there.”

  “You’re right,” agreed Alex, walking briskly. “Better get into the offices. It might be hard to break in. We don’t want to get trapped out front.”

  They ran once more, picking up the iron bar from where they had earlier discarded it, in case Alex needed it to smash his way in. Will was waiting anxiously in the doorway. Everyone else stood helplessly as Alex flung himself at the double glass doors. The first time he rebounded painfully, rubbing his shoulder ruefully. The second charge ended with the same result. He placed his shoulder against it, braced himself against the doorstep and pushed with all his strength.

  “Wrong side,” called Will suddenly. “Look! There’s someone just gone through it.”

  Will was right. Cursing, feeling a fool, Alex transferred his attentions to the other door.

  “Hurry up, for sprout’s sake,” grunted Paulo.

  “I can see Cactus Jack,” shrieked Tanya, who was keeping watch from the pavement outside. “He’s just come out past B&Q.”

  At last the door gave way. The party burst through into the foyer, glancing anxiously around at the scene of Statical activity thus revealed. A receptionist laughed at a joke she was being told by a young man leaning over the desk towards her. A cleaner uncoiled the lead of a vacuum cleaner. A man in a hurry twisted to grab at two sheets of paper that had slipped from the stack of files he was carrying. One of the two lifts stood open, and instinct almost led Alex to run into it. He checked himself just in time.

  “Stairs,” said Kelly, reading his mistake. “There must be stairs.”

  There were. Along a short corridor to the rear of the lifts. Alex forced open the door and they rushed up the stairs, taking them two at a time, their feet clattering in the echoing concrete stairwell.

  “Oh God! Please don’t let the door at the top be locked,” said Alex to himself as they made their way to the top of the building. It wasn’t. It was a fire exit, with a push bar latch. Alex hurled himself at it and the door burst open. They ran across the flat terrace of the roof top towards the parapet. They made for the side nearest to the decaying Victorian temple to literature that had once been the old town library. From here they could look back along the West side of the ring road to where the tiny shape of a manatee could be made out, gliding painfully slowly towards them.

  “Come on, come onnnn,” fretted Will. “Is it always that slow?”

  They all cast anxious glances back at the lift head, at the open door that marked the top of the staircase. Paulo was still holding the iron bar. He and Alex looked at each other and then at the door. They had the same idea at the same moment.

  “We could wedge the door shut,” said Paulo.

  Alex nodded. “Worth a try.”

  They hurried to the door, slamming it shut and wedging the bar between the handle and a crack in the slabs that made up the roof surface. They weren’t an instant too soon. The next moment the door shook as Cactus Jack placed his weight against it. Alex and Paulo sprinted back to the parapet. Kelly was trembling, ashen white, doing her best to console Tanya, who was weeping on her arm.

  “It’s still a way away,” reported Will, leaning over the parapet. “Maybe thirty seconds.”

  Alex didn’t know if they had thirty seconds. He found himself shifting his weight anxiously from foot to foot. The door was vibrating now, with great thundering crashes and the bar was beginning to slip.

  “I’ll hold it in place,” said Will, taking off his glasses. His small weak eyes held a world of terror, but he hurried to the door, slapping Kelly’s and Alex’s outstretched hands in passing.

  “Good luck,” he called to them, over his shoulder.

  “It’s going to be alright,” Kelly assured Tanya, cradling her head in her hands, but she didn’t look like she believed it.

  Paulo put his arm round Kelly and drew her to him, causing Alex a moment of the sharpest anguish. They climbed up onto the parapet and faced the void beneath, a void into which they must surely leap in seconds now, as the manatee slid past B&Q. Alex felt Kelly’s arm snake around his midriff, as the three of them stood poised on the parapet edge and the slow seconds dragged past.

  “Tell us when,” said Kelly to Tanya who had moved a little further along to watch.

  “I can’t hold it,” cried Will from the door, struggling to hold the bar in place. The door burst open. Will fell on his back and the bar toppled to the floor with a loud clang. Cactus Jack strode through.

  “Quickly Kelly, the Mask,” said Alex, snatching at the amulet, where it hung at her neck. He fumbled with the buttons. At first nothing seemed to happen but at last, when Jack had covered half the distance between them, it began to glow. For a moment all four of them froze, watching helplessly as Cactus Jack ground to a halt.

  “It’s working,” breathed Tanya.

  “Shhhh,” hissed Paulo. “Shut the sprout up!”

  Cactus Jack stood only a few metres from them, his head turning slowly from side to side, his nostrils flaring as he sniffed the air. Then he took a slow, faltering step towards them, pausing again to sample the breeze.

  “He’s still getting a whiff of you Kell,” said Paulo, drawing her closer to him, as though he thought he was going to be able to protect her from Jack. “Now what, Alex?”

  There was desperation in all of their eyes as they regarded him. Alex shrugged, and then his hand brushed against a small, hard object in his trouser pocket, even as Jack took another cautious step towards them. The manatee was close now, no more than a hundred yards. Inspiration struck Alex. He drew Tony’s pager stone qu
ickly from his pocket and squeezed it hard, picturing Tony in his head.

  “What are you doing?” asked Kelly.

  Before Alex could even begin to answer Tony materialised in front of them. He was still dressed formally, as though dressed for the meeting that Alex had absconded from. There was a look of severe irritation on his face.”

  “This had better be important,” he managed to say before realising who had summoned him. “What! You!”

  Almost at the same instant he realised that Kelly, Tanya, Paulo and Alex all had their eyes fixed firmly on what was immediately behind him. He swivelled, even as Cactus Jack suddenly bore down upon him.

  “Huh! Atropos, what are you doing here? Hey, unhand me, at once.”

  For Cactus Jack had taken hold of Tony. The angel’s panic stricken hoots rang out across the roof top as Death’s Delegate tried to get a good grip on the back of Tony’s neck. “What are you…doing?...Get off!” grunted Tony as the two of them wrestled.

  Alex realised with a jolt of delight, that Tony still had a sample of Kelly’s DNA in his jacket pocket. Confused and desperate for his kill Jack must have homed in on that. Tony was strong, possessed of angelic power indeed, but every time he went to make those special signs in the air, Jack’s hands seemed to interrupt the movement, and Tony was getting more and more anxious. “No...Help! This is all a… mistake. Aah!”

  There was no time to watch more. Tony’s unwitting intervention had bought them a vital few seconds and now the manatee was gliding beneath them. It was the moment they had waited for.

  “Now!” cried Tanya.

  With a last glance at each other, they jumped. Alex’s stomach flinched upwards. He caught his breath. Air tugged at his hair. The grey bulk of the manatee loomed towards them and he braced himself for the impact. But there was no impact. Suddenly they were falling not onto but through it, as though a hole had opened up in the fabric of 'Sticia. Alex’s last impressions were of Kelly’s mouth, open in a silent scream, Paulo flailing at the whirling darkness, Tanya’s pale face over the parapet, diminishing to nothing. There was a brief dizziness, a lurch and suddenly Alex was back in Wardworths, a vacuum flask and a bowl in his hands. The world sprang into motion and sounds assaulted his ears as though a switch had been suddenly flicked. Flask and bowl dropped from his nerveless fingers. There were impressions. Loud voices. Expressions of concern from those around him. His mum turning towards him. A loud bang, somewhere. Heads turning. It was bizarre. Memories were leaking from his head like water streaming through a colander. He fought to hold onto them. Will, Ganymede, Malcolm, Paulo…and Kelly. They were all getting away from him. Ignoring the momentary confusion behind him and his mum’s call of alarm, Alex ran for the doors. He pelted through jostling crowds along the passage that led to the Ring Road, desperately trying to hold on to the diminishing image of Kelly in his head. It was hopeless. She faded like a wisp of smoke until she was gone, even as he joined the press of onlookers at the kerbside.