by Jeff Povey
‘I get it, Billie, I do, and I almost wish I hadn’t come back,’ I say. ‘But I didn’t know it would be like this . . .’ My words fade away.
‘If it’s any help, I didn’t either.’ She slips an arm round my bruised shoulders. ‘But me and Johnson, it just happened. It just seemed right.’
The Ape crashes out into the howling storm, turning to issue more orders. ‘Snooker!’ He has to yell to be heard.
We don’t need a second invitation and huddle behind his black-coated bulk. The snow is deeper than ever and it takes what feels like an hour of heavy trudging to reach the entrance to the snooker hall. Halfway there we draw level with the high street and I dare to glance down it, fearful of what I might see. But there is still no sign of Johnson or Non-Ape.
Billie scans the whitening world and I know she is looking for Johnson as well. Looking. And praying.
Behind us the church finally gives way and collapses. This is awful, I think, this is just the worst of the worst.
I hear a distant bellow on the wind, but I don’t know if it’s a bellow of triumph or frustration.
If it’s one of triumph then I think I might as well die here and now.
Snooker balls collide into each other and scatter across the brushed green baize of a full-sized snooker table. A pink ball careers into a corner pocket.
‘Got one!’
The Ape has taped three snooker cues together and is using them as one large cue as he smashes balls around the table.
‘Got one!’
GG watches him for a moment, then turns to the Moth who is sitting at the window peering into the gathering night. There is a moon rising overhead and some of the street lamps are spluttering and dying, their yellow sodium glow fading from existence in a jittery dance of power failure.
‘The world is stopping,’ the Moth says solemnly to no one in particular. ‘It’s turning itself off. It was only a matter of time.’
I wait for more but the Moth disappears inside his head.
‘What does he mean by that?’ GG whispers to me. ‘Moth?’ The Moth doesn’t hear him so GG waves at him. ‘Timothy? Tiny Tim?’
The Moth breaks from his reflections. ‘I didn’t want to make it any worse.’
‘There’s worse than this?’
‘Who’s manning the nuclear reactors? Only they’ll eventually fail and the world’ll go kaboom.’
GG pulls a sad clown face. ‘Why did I even ask? Why did I do that?’
‘Then there’s all the satellites in space, some of them’ll miss their commands, then crash into each other and fall out of orbit. No one’ll be around to spot and shoot approaching comets either. That’s how the dinosaurs died out. A comet hit the earth. There’s so much reliant on computers that the minute they fail – well, who knows what that’ll do?’
I can’t even respond. It’s so mind-blowing that it’s impossible to accept.
‘How long have we got before the kaboom?’ GG asks.
The Moth shrugs. ‘It hasn’t happened yet but it can’t be long.’
The lights in the square flicker again, just in case we needed proof.
‘How will Johnson know where we are?’ Billie asks. Her eyes are back to normal now and she has taken the liberty of going behind the bar and helping herself to a vodka and tonic. She didn’t ask anyone else if they wanted anything so I hand out beers to the others.
The Ape drinks his in two seconds flat then scatters more snooker balls with this triple-cue. ‘Got one!’
The increasingly violent snowstorm has made hearing the Non-Ape’s bellows impossible and we now have no idea what has happened to Johnson.
‘We need to send up a little smoke signal for him,’ GG offers. ‘Or put a sign in the window.’
The Ape smashes more balls as hard as he can. The white ball races into a pocket. ‘Got one!’
‘Moth?’ I approach the window. ‘Any ideas?’
The Moth scans the night for a long moment.
But if he has got a great idea he’s keeping it to himself for now.
Billie gets to her feet. ‘We’ve been here an hour now. I’m going to go find him.’
The Moth is immediately worried. ‘You can’t do that, Billie.’
‘You going to stop me? How? By wheeling yourself over my toes? By giving me a slight limp?’ Billie drains her glass. ‘That’s my boyfriend out there.’
‘You’ve been drinking alcohol. It’ll make you feel ten times colder.’
‘Someone needs to find him,’ she says and slumps on one of the faded green-leather banquettes that run along one side of the wall.
The snooker balls crash around the table again. ‘Got one!’
‘C’mon, Moth,’ says GG. ‘Get that brain working.’ GG adopts an authoritative Scottish brogue. ‘What are we paying you for, man?’
The Moth stares down into the blizzard-hit square. The lamp posts continue to fizz and flicker.
‘Moth?’ I press.
The Moth thinks for an agonisingly long moment but remains slumped
‘Sorry. I haven’t one single idea.’
The Non-Ape’s bellows in the distance. The roar is the loudest one yet. It reminds me of that moment in Jurassic Park when they first hear the T rex roar, only this is way louder.
Billie has numbed her worry with more vodka and is now only half awake as she stretches her long lithe body along the green banquette.
GG is lying on one of the snooker tables staring at the overhead light. He is dancing slowly with his fingers, humming some slow tempo tune to himself.
The Moth has remained silent. Staring into the black night.
The Ape is behind the bar rummaging for more crisps. He sees me and tosses a packet at me.
‘Dinner.’ His warning comes too late and they hit me in the face.
He starts emptying an entire bag down the back of his throat. Half of them spill over his face. ‘Crisp shower!’
I watch him and wonder how none of this ever seems to affect him.
He wipes his face. ‘Want me to go find Johnson?’
It’s a kind offer, but I know we’re all trapped here till this storm blows over.
‘I’m a great tracker,’ he says.
Which surprises me.
‘I followed a teacher home and he never knew I was there.’
‘That’s not really the same thing,’ I tell him.
‘At least, not until the feds showed up he didn’t know I was there.’
‘Forget it. It’s too dangerous. You’d freeze to death out there.’ The words are out before I can stop them and the pronouncement brings tears to my eyes. If the Ape can freeze so can Johnson.
The Ape knows I’m upset but he doesn’t know how to deal with it so he throws another packet of crisps at me. ‘More dinner.’
They bounce off me.
I wipe my eyes. But tears replace the tears.
‘I could find him easy,’ the Ape boasts.
I so wish you could, I think.
‘Go on then, go out there in the cold and the dark and bring him back.’ Billie has stirred but her words are slurred. She raises her glass to the Ape. ‘I’ll drink to that amazing idea.’
The Ape doesn’t flinch but GG sneaks a knowing look at me from his snooker table and whispers, ‘Is Carrie back? Could’ve sworn I heard her voice.’
Carrie was the arch queen of bitchiness and has held that title for as long as I can remember. But Billie is proving to be a rival for that crown now.
The Ape puffs out his chest. ‘I’ll find him, no problemo.’
‘I’ll close the door after you.’ Billie has never had any love for the Ape and, despite trying to numb the pain of losing Johnson with booze, her venom is rising and finding an all too easy target.
‘Billie,’ I say, warning her.
But she gets up on her elbows. Across the hall GG has stopped his finger dance.
‘Go on then.’ Billie stares hard at the Ape.
‘I’m a great tracker,’ he repeat
s.
He felt the full force of Billie’s anti-Ape rage before and it hurt him more than he would ever let on. But he’s standing his ground, unafraid.
‘So make some tracks,’ she slurs.
‘I will.’
‘So do it.’
‘I’m going.’
‘Good.’
‘Ape . . .’ I start to say.
‘It’s Dazza.’
‘Dazza . . .’
He emerges from behind the bar and pulls on his great black coat.
‘Ten minutes.’
‘Ten?’ Billie says bitterly. ‘That’s soooo slow.’
The Ape picks up his triple-cue weapon and Billie spits out a laugh. ‘My God.’
‘Billie,’ I try again but she is sitting upright now, eager to goad the Ape.
‘If you manage it, you can have another bag of crisps. Deal?’
GG sits up. He’s as concerned as I am. ‘Dazza, it’s dark out there. It’s cold. It’s better if you stay indoors, banging balls around.’
The Ape buttons his coat and ignores GG. Only looking at Billie. ‘Deal.’
‘It’s pitch-black.’ The Moth twists in his seat. ‘Tell him, Rev!’
‘I’ve got good eyes,’ the Ape responds.
GG is now moving over to the Ape. ‘You’ll be snow-blind in seconds.’
‘Ten minutes,’ he repeats.
The Ape takes a moment and then presses a stubby index finger against my cheek. He scoops up a tear and shows it to me.
He then turns and heads downstairs and trudges out into the Siberian night.
It happens before either GG or myself can really react. One second the Ape is there, the next he’s gone.
I make to go after him but GG stops me. ‘You can’t, Rev. We need you here.’
Billie laughs but it’s hollow. ‘He actually went out there? I was teasing him. I was. Tell him to come back, Moth. Shout out the window.’
We all know that Billie meant every word and again I’m reminded that sometimes she seems a million miles away from being my best friend.
‘Moth, shout to him!’ Billie gets to her tipsy drunken feet and reels towards the window. She cups her hands and tries to peer out. ‘Where is he? I can’t see him.’
She bangs on the window but it’s more of a futile rap than anything.
There is no response and just like that the Ape has gone.
I check the clock on the wall. It has been seven minutes since the Ape stepped out to put his perfect eyesight and innate tracking skills to the ultimate test.
GG has watched every second tick by with me. He has fallen unusually silent and even he can find no humour in this moment. We’ve both come to love the Ape in our own way.
The Moth continues to keep vigil at the window while Billie tries not to look too ashamed of herself.
I should be so much angrier at her, but deep down I know the Ape went out because of me. He didn’t like me crying, and even if they weren’t big tears, he still wanted to stop them.
For nine minutes we have been talking idly, chatting about anything but what might be happening outside, namely the freezing to death of an Ape and a Johnson.
The Moth is trying to work out why GG, the Ape and me could shift back here and yet when he, Billie and Johnson had gone to the classroom nothing had happened. No white light had appeared for them.
‘I think you were right, Rev. It’s you,’ the Moth declares. ‘You’re the missing link.’
‘That makes two Neanderthals then.’ Billie’s joke doesn’t exactly lighten the mood.
‘I’m trying to think of an answer,’ he says to her. ‘I don’t need your stupid comments.’ The Moth surprises me with his curt reaction. But I guess five months of being stuck in an empty alien world changes a person.
‘You’ve tried for months and come up with zilch.’ There’s spite in Billie and a tautness surrounds that spite. Everyone seems to annoy her at some level. Everyone bar Johnson.
She’s definitely not the same person she was and, unlike the Moth, I don’t think it’s just because she’s been stuck here for months. I’m worried that the scars she received from the evil version of Lucas haven’t only distorted her appearance but have also altered her personality. When we were on the train to London when we were here the first time she had a weird fit and her eyes turned black. That happened a few more times and when I think back to how nasty she was to the Ape during the dinner we had at the hotel in London (before the punching incident of course), I don’t think it was just the huge amount of alcohol talking. Something about her has changed. It’s not her fault and I feel desperately worried for her, but that growing meanness is a worry. Who is she? What is she becoming?
‘You’ve been useless, Hawkings.’ She arrows a look at the Moth. ‘Your body doesn’t work and now your brain doesn’t either.’
‘That’s nice, thank you.’ The Moth just about remains level-headed and calm. ‘And for the millionth time his name is Hawking, Stephen Hawking. No “S”. How many times do I have to tell you that?’
Billie spots my silent disapproval and softens a little. ‘All I’m saying is, you need to justify what you’re saying,’ she tells the Moth. ‘You can’t just say things and not back them up.’
‘He’s working on it, Billie,’ GG says, walking over to the window and looking out into the freezing night, desperate for a sign. ‘So we’ll wait for the Ape and Johnson and then head back to the school. See if the theory about Rev is right,’ he adds.
Billie is scornful. ‘You don’t even know where we’ll be taken to. You went to the wrong world, remember? There could be hundreds of worlds and we could end up never finding our way home. Or worse, we could fall into the burning world, the one Rev’s dad came through from. That’ll be fun. Burning to death.’
Billie drains her vodka and throws the glass at the bar where it smashes.
Fifty-five seconds. That’s all the Ape’s got left to keep his ten-minute promise.
There haven’t been any more T rex-style roars, which could mean the Non-Ape has gone or that he’s definitely found Johnson and done whatever it is he wanted to do to him.
Fifty seconds.
The Moth has already declared that ten minutes would be the maximum survivable time outside. I don’t know where the figure came from, but in his expert opinion unless the Ape found shelter he probably wouldn’t make it back, as in ever.
Which leaves forty seconds.
‘Tick-tock,’ GG says quietly, his eyes glued to the clock.
Thirty-five seconds.
What will I do if he dies?
Thirty seconds.
And I mean that about both of them. Johnson and the Ape. What if I never see either of them again?
Twenty-five seconds.
GG lets out a long extended sigh. His eyes meet mine. ‘And then there were four,’ he says. ‘We’re not very good at this are we?’
Twenty seconds.
They’re both dead. They must be.
Fifteen seconds.
Why did my dad do this to me? Or was it her dad? Rev Two’s dad. Why would he bring us here? I know in my heart of hearts that my guess about me being the catalyst is right. He made it happen. I just wish I knew why. The obvious reason is he wanted to see me again. After twelve years of searching he had a breakthrough and did something that caused me to come here. The others got unlucky and were dragged along with me. But did he get confused? Did he bring both Revs here – because he wasn’t sure which one was his daughter? How could he not know?
Ten seconds.
Despite everything I secretly hope that my non-mum has been reunited with both her Rev and her husband. That would make some of this at least partially acceptable. A small piece of good in a horrendous sequence of events.
Five seconds.
The second hand on the clock pushes past the ten-minute cut-off point and the empty world dies a little bit more.
GG looks away from the clock. The Moth slowly hangs his head. Billie swallo
ws hard and buries her face in her hands. I want to say something profound or rousing, like we’re still here and if Johnson and the Ape were here they’d tell us to keep going, to keep trying, to save the world.
‘Yowza!’
The Ape bundles in, his black coat covered in snow, a beefy arm thrown round Johnson who leans into him, using the triple-cue as a makeshift crutch.
GG bounds over to them. ‘He did it! The Ape found Johnson!’
‘I’m a great tracker.’
The Ape’s face is red raw from the biting wind and it looks like his fingers are close to being frostbitten, but he went out and he found Johnson. I have no idea how he did that. I’m totally speechless.
‘I’m glad it was this Ape.’ Johnson raises a feeble smile and he and the Ape share a high five.
All I manage is: ‘Johnson.’
The Moth looks at them in shock and wonder and Billie shoves past me to throw her arms round Johnson’s neck and kiss his face and lips in between words.
‘Johnson.’ Kiss. ‘You’re alive.’ Kiss. ‘I was so scared.’ Kiss. ‘Never be apart again.’ Kiss.
GG leaps up and kisses the Ape on his frozen, stinging red cheek. ‘You, sir, are the best person ever, ever, ever, ever!’
The Ape brushes away from GG and catches my eye. At this point a true hero would wink in a cool way. He belches. ‘Where are my crisps?’
‘The-the Non-Ape? What happened to him?’ I ask.
‘No idea. Didn’t see him.’
But I’m really asking Johnson who is being smothered by Billie as she slips his long wet coat off him.
‘Rev, get the kettle on,’ Billie orders me. ‘He needs a hot drink.’
‘Did you lie low or something?’ I press, but Johnson can’t see me past Billie.
‘Rev, stop dawdling, he’s freezing.’
‘Where were you?’
‘Rev, c’mon, move it!’ she barks at me, so off I dutifully go to the staff room to make hot coffee.
I watch the machine percolating and think, I hate coffee. I hate it. Why am I making it if I hate it so much?
But nevertheless I make two piping hot cups.