by Jeff Povey
A headstone flies over the Ape’s huge head, missing him by centimetres, before crashing straight through a stained-glass window on the opposite side of the church.
GG beseeches him. ‘Ape, I can’t carry the Moth on my own. I need your help.’
The roof creaks loudly above our heads, straining to stay upright.
The lone cog in the Ape’s brain turns and he finally sets the cross down, seeing sense for once.
‘Next time,’ he mumbles, disappointed.
GG grabs the Ape’s meaty paw in his tiny hand. ‘With me.’
‘No, homo!’ The Ape snatches his hand away from GG, but GG grips it tight.
‘Oh you’d be so lucky,’ GG quips, ignoring the insult.
Together we run through the dangerously unstable church.
The mighty oak doors are punched clean off their hinges. I don’t have to turn round to know there’s a giant monstrous boy standing in the doorway, looking to kill what he believes to be the Other-Johnson.
The Non-Ape laughs. ‘SAY YOUR PRAYERS!’
We duck out through the back door as quickly as we can, and I close it behind us, hoping that the Non-Ape won’t think to look for us here. I look around and see we’re now in a simple nineteen-fifties kitchen area. The Moth is already at a door on the other side of the kitchen that leads to outside. He looks tired out, having obviously struggled to propel his heavy wheelchair there after GG pushed him from the church. He has a hand planted either side of the doorway as he tries to pull his dead wheelchair over the high wooden threshold. He can’t get enough purchase and it keeps rolling him backwards.
‘I told you to wait – you’re so impatient,’ admonishes GG, and he and the Ape lift the Moth’s wheelchair and trudge out into the snow.
Snow that is going to leave more tracks.
‘JOHNSON!’ the Non-Ape bellows again. His thunderous footsteps shake the church’s foundations.
The Ape and GG move as fast as they can, but they’ll never get away, not carrying the Moth and his wheelchair.
‘Which way?’ GG asks.
The Ape scans the Christmas-card town square and spots the entrance to the snooker hall. The door is open – it always seems to be in our world, and it’s no different in this one.
‘Snooker,’ the Ape says, heading towards it.
GG tries to keep up with the Ape but his legs are shorter and his arms aren’t as strong, and after a few paces he is already slipping and losing his grip on the wheelchair.
‘Move it!’ the Ape encourages.
‘I’m coming, I’m coming,’ GG responds valiantly. ‘You’re so bossy.’
But we won’t make it. I know we won’t. And even if we do Non-Ape will see our tracks.
There’s no choice really. Perhaps there never was.
I turn back and head back into the church.
Non-Ape is already outside the kitchen door when I yank it open.
He is so surprised he lurches to a stop. He can’t quite believe what he is seeing as he looms over me, his huge form casting a shadow all over the kitchen.
‘Dazza.’ I try and smile. ‘Didn’t know you were a churchgoer.’
He doesn’t smile. He just stares down at me like he hates me with all his heart and soul.
I know I’ve described the pulse in my neck thrashing around like a trapped fish before but this time it’s more like a school of scared fish. I have never been so terrified and that’s saying something after the things I’ve been through recently. All I have going in my favour is my natural wit and cunning, which to be honest isn’t in too plentiful a supply right now. But I’m hoping Non-Ape will think I’m the Rev from his world, and therefore he will possibly, maybe, perhaps, have a soft spot for me. Just like my Ape does.
‘You’ve got ten seconds. Then you’re dead.’
Scratch that thought.
‘You hear me, Pinkhead?’
‘Yeah, uh, yeah. I hear you.’
‘Ten seconds.’
Which have already passed.
‘For what?’ I ask.
‘Uh?’
‘Ten seconds for what?’
I hope the others are getting away. I foolishly realise that I didn’t shut the back door when I came back, so it’s halfway open and I am praying, in a church no less, that it doesn’t swing all the way open and reveal their footprints outside.
Non-Ape stops to collect his thoughts. He already can’t seem to remember what he needs ten seconds for. He’s also too busy looking at my chest. He has become so distracted by my bosom that his brain has ceased to work.
‘Uh . . .’ he murmurs.
I step to the side and his eyes follow my chest. I move back again and his eyes follow.
Bingo!
He is the boy to end all boys, frozen in amber by anything approaching voluptuous.
I step again and his eyes follow, glued to my cleavage.
‘What you doing here?’ he mumbles to them.
‘Worshipping.’ But my voice is tinny, without bass or treble. It’s a nervous skinny voice trapped way back in my throat.
‘Who?’
‘Uh . . . God of course.’
Non-Ape is not only monstrously powerful but also monstrously stupid. I heard him speaking on the phone to the Ape once and it wasn’t exactly a meeting of great minds.
I step out of the kitchen and his head turns, eyes still riveted to my feminine charms.
‘Where you going?’
‘Uh . . . You know.’ I don’t know how long I can hold him in this trance. Also, I don’t know how I’m going to escape. I know he isn’t fast but he has reserves of stamina that would fill a town reservoir. He can keep going almost indefinitely so I know I can’t outrun him. And if I did run my boobs would only bounce up and down and entrance him even more. This is not how I saw things panning out.
‘This, uh, this church is ancient.’ I’m babbling now. ‘It’s fourteenth century, I think.’ I keep edging away, sticking my chest out that little bit further. I’m moving back into a building that could possibly cave in on me any second, but at least the others have got a chance.
I glimpse the destruction and I’m thinking now is the time for God to take over, to see this horrendous treatment of hallowed ground and send a bolt of lightning down. He may have to send a few but Non-Ape deserves it.
‘I make that five seconds,’ he says, his voice a low rumble. ‘That means you’ve got . . .’ He stops to think for a moment. ‘A few more left.’
His concept of time is remarkable.
I need a plan.
Maybe I could dance in front of him, soothe his rage and calm his furrowed brow. He’d fall asleep like a mesmerised giant from mythology. I could do the Dance of the Seven Veils, whatever that is, and he would find his eyes closing and his lids getting heavier and—
‘Where’s Johnson?’ he asks.
Maybe I won’t be dancing after all. Which isn’t a bad thing considering my inability to move with anything approaching rhythm or grace.
‘No idea,’ I tell him.
‘Sure?’ His eyes climb from my chest and look deeply into mine, as if he can see right through me.
‘Positive. Anyway, uh . . . Thought you were in London.’
Small talk is good, I think.
‘L-town was dead.’
OK. Not so good.
‘No one there.’
‘So you came back?’
‘No.’
‘No?’
The Non-Ape laughs in my face. ‘Duh! Wouldn’t be here if I hadn’t come back.’
I laugh as if he’s the funniest boy in the world. ‘You kill me.’ Which I immediately regret saying.
The wind whips through the smashed church windows and I know for certain that I’m eventually going to catch pneumonia. Or I would do if I get to live that long. ‘The others went home. They waited for you, but the light came again and took them home.’
‘What light?’
‘The light in the classroom.’
&n
bsp; ‘What classroom?’
‘At the school. But you know what, if you went up there, I bet it’d take you home as well.’
The Non-Ape considers this for a moment. ‘This is home.’
Great.
‘But it’s not,’ I tell him.
‘It’s just got no people.’
‘No, uh, the, uh, the Moth figured it out. This isn’t home.’
The Non-Ape laughs and then lightly punches my arm. ‘Ha.’ It’s a gentle playful punch that sends me flying backwards into a stone wall. It’s a miracle my spine doesn’t snap in half from the impact. I have to pretend not to be winded, or in complete agony.
‘You’re funny.’ He laughs again.
I gingerly peel myself away from the wall. ‘I’m not kidding, I swear. Something weird has happened.’
‘Where’s Johnson?’ He’s already lost interest in our conversation, his one-track mind coming back to Johnson and destruction.
‘Told you, he’s gone back with the others.’
‘Back where?’
‘Home!’ I’d slap him if I could. He’s even more infuriating than our Ape.
‘This is home.’ And so the circle of misunderstanding begins again.
‘Come to the classroom with me, I’ll show you.’
‘Show me what?’
‘The white light.’
‘What white light?’
He may have the strength to crush a mountain but it’s his stupidity that’ll be the death of me.
‘The white light that brought us here.’ I can feel tears of frustration welling behind my eyes.
‘Oh yeah,’ he says.
I try again. ‘And here isn’t really here.’
‘Yeah it is.’
‘Look,’ I say, exasperated and enduring some wretched spinal agony. ‘You’ve been here five months, right? And you haven’t seen anyone in all that time.’
‘Huh?’ He looks totally confused now. He frowns and I bet he could crack walnuts just from creasing up his skin.
‘Look at the snow. It’s winter.’
Non-Ape belches. ‘Johnson shouldn’t have done that to Billie.’ He’s gone completely off track again.
‘You can tell him that when you go back,’ I say.
‘She liked Johnson.’
I step further into the church, one eye on the dangerously precarious roof. The chandelier now hangs by a single electrical wire.
‘She cried on me,’ he says, and for a moment I get this image of Another-Billie weeping in this behemoth’s presence. Did he reach out to her and promise he’d make it better? I still have no idea what Other-Johnson did to their Billie but at least there is some shred of humanity in Non-Ape. If he held Another-Billie while she cried, he has a heart.
Which means I have hope.
I offer my hand to him. ‘Look, uh . . . Billie still needs you.’
He looks down at my hand.
‘You did what any friend would.’ My tone is gentle, soothing. ‘You tried to sort things but, trust me, they’re sorted. There’s no need for all of this anger. She’s happy again.’
His eyes don’t leave my hand.
‘Let’s go. Let’s get to the classroom.’
I’ll lead him up to the school, somehow lose him, then grab another dinner tray and sledge all the way back down here.
‘Take my hand.’
The church creaks above my head and it’s as good a reason as any to get out.
‘All you’ve got to do is take my hand,’ I repeat in case he didn’t get it the first time.
His eyes are fixed on my hand. He shifts from one foot to the other. The hand seems to concern him.
I edge closer. ‘It’s not safe in here.’ Well, not for me.
‘Think I’m stupid?’ he grunts. His temper is fraying.
‘Why would you say that?’
But then I realise that I’m the stupid one. Rev Two’s hand turned blue and stole Other-Johnson’s life as soon as it touched his skin. Non-Ape thinks I’m trying to trick him into doing the same to him.
‘No, wait . . . I wasn’t trying anything, I wasn’t.’ I withdraw my hand as quickly as I can.
But not quickly enough.
The Non-Ape looks back at my chest. ‘They’re up,’ he says.
‘Sorry?’
The Non-Ape takes a giant step forward and grabs me by the throat. He raises me in the air until I’m level with his face.
‘Your ten seconds.’
I try to reach for the Non-Ape, but his other hand grabs my wrists and pins my arms painfully behind my back. Both of my shoulders all but pop out.
‘Wait,’ I gurgle.
‘I want Johnson.’
‘You-you got him yesterday. I mean, five months ago . . .’ My words are little more than a rasp.
‘Nah.’
‘Yeah, he told me.’
‘He got away.’
Non-Ape could snap my neck with a flick of his wrist as he brings me closer to his huge jowly face. He reeks of stale sweat, and if memory serves me right he’s been wearing the same clothes since I last saw him. Ew.
‘Where is Johnson?’
He presses a little harder and my throat starts to cave in on itself.
‘I don’t know,’ I splutter.
His thick thumb moves another millimetre. My larynx is bending like a straw.
‘Last chance.’
I can’t speak even if I wanted to, which sort of defeats his method of interrogation. No air is getting into my airway and I’m starting to feel giddy from lack of oxygen. I know my face is turning crimson. I can feel it burning like the worst embarrassment.
‘Bye, Pinkhead.’ He is about to flick his thick wrist.
A voice comes from the doorway.
‘Hey, Dazza.’ The Non-Ape turns his monolithic head to the right and standing there is Johnson. Tall and skinny, his long dark jacket flapping around him in the onrushing wind. He is calm, abnormally so, as he stares straight at the Non-Ape. ‘Let Rev go.’
The Non-Ape grins. ‘Make me.’
‘Careful what you wish for.’
The Non-Ape’s eyes are alive at the sight of Johnson. But Johnson takes a step forward, brazen, daring.
A low guttural rumble escapes from the Non-Ape’s throat.
Johnson takes another step closer. ‘Let my girl go.’
The Non-Ape drops me without a care in the world and I land hard on the stone floor. I cough and retch as air tries to squeeze in past my bruised larynx.
‘Johnson, no . . . I-I had it covered,’ I pant.
‘Looked that way.’
I get to my hands and knees but I can’t seem to get upright. My head spins from the lack of oxygen and I can’t tell what’s floor and what’s ceiling.
Johnson sets his eyes on Non-Ape. ‘You want me – come get me.’ He uses his super-charged body to turn and leap through one of the broken church windows.
The Non-Ape roars and runs after him, ploughing straight through the thick ancient stone wall of the church and exploding out of the other end. ‘JOHNSON!’
The shattered wall was supporting part of the roof and it bows and creaks above me.
I stagger to my feet. ‘Let my girl go.’ That’s what he said. I may have nearly died, but it was almost worth it to hear those words.
The church keeps spinning around me and I flail out an arm to steady myself against one of the remaining supporting columns. If I could just clear my head, I could go after them. I close my eyes and count to ten.
I reach number three when Billie comes from nowhere and rugby-tackles me back to the floor.
‘Why did you come back?’ she screams at me. ‘Why??’
Her eyes turn from blue to black as she beats at me with her fists. ‘We were happy!’
I can hear Non-Ape bellowing after Johnson who I hope to God is fast enough. Billie keeps pummelling me. ‘You just got him killed!’
I catch Billie’s wrists to stop her battering my mega bruised body. ‘Billie, please.�
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But she easily twists a wrist free and beats at me again.
Through the huge hole the Non-Ape has made in the wall I can see thick snow beginning to fall.
I kick and crawl away from under Billie, but she keeps on coming. Her eyes fill with black – even the whites are black. ‘I had to come back, I had to,’ I tell her, crawling and scrambling backwards as fast as I can.
‘But look what you’ve done,’ she wails.
A blizzard is building now, and it’s racing in through the hole in the wall. Snowflakes land but don’t melt.
‘Billie, I came back for you. To save you.’
But she pummels me again, and even though I put my arms up to protect myself some of her punches get through.
‘Billie, please.’
Her face is within inches of mine and she is snarling now, spittle gathering on her lips. I can’t believe this is my all-time best friend.
‘Hey,’ a deep voice calls out.
Billie turns and I don’t quite know what happens but there’s a blur of movement followed by a thud and suddenly Billie is spiralling away from me.
The Ape stretches a hand towards me. ‘What’s her problem?’
I take his giant paw-like hand and he heaves me easily to my feet.
The storm has started to rage outside as Billie glowers at the Ape. ‘Did you just punch me?’
‘Was a push. I don’t hit girls.’
‘You animal.’
But it seems like the snarling, spitting creature has disappeared and the old Billie has emerged, shoved out of her insane anger by the Ape.
‘Snooker,’ the Ape says and pounds towards the kitchen.
I offer my hand to Billie but she won’t take it.
‘I’m sorry,’ I tell her. ‘But Johnson will get away. He will.’
The Ape is waiting by the rear door and the snowstorm is growing stronger by the second. ‘Can’t see J-Man,’ he says, shielding his eyes from the icy blasts.
I doubt anyone can see anything in this blizzard. I try anyway but there is no sign of him or the Non-Ape.
Billie steps alongside me. ‘Rev . . .’
I can’t help tensing when I hear her voice.
‘Rev.’ She tries again, her voice softer, her words choked. ‘I’m sorry.’ She can barely look me in the eye. ‘I shouldn’t have reacted like that. I’ve never been this happy before. I know it wasn’t perfect but these months have been – and I know you don’t want to hear this – but they’ve been amazing.’