Shift #2

by Jeff Povey

  ‘He was headless,’ GG whimpers. ‘He was definitely without a head.’

  ‘Johnson?’ I ask Other-Johnson.

  They both answer. ‘What?’

  ‘Is this possible?’

  Other-Johnson looks at the approaching Moth Two . ‘Looks like it is.’

  ‘But how?’ I ask him.

  ‘I dunno. But don’t worry, we’ve got the Apes.’

  Then the Moth all but screams. ‘Oh my God!’ He is pointing out of the window. ‘That can’t be. It can’t!’

  We pile back into the main carriage and crowd the window the Moth is sitting by. There are more Moth Twos swarming towards the train. They are charging through fields, overrunning gardens, plunging straight through greenhouses and crashing through fences as they home in on the train.

  It’s like a plague of giant black locusts, all of them with talons and steel teeth.

  ‘GG, floor it!’ Johnson yells.

  GG scoots to the driver compartment and within seconds the train accelerates. ‘Everyone hang on to something!’ he yells. ‘Warp speed is upon us.’

  Billie is looking out of the opposite window and she speaks quietly. ‘Guys . . .’

  No one really hears her. We are too fixated on the Moth Two swarm.

  ‘How tough is Non-Ape?’ I ask anyone who will listen.

  Billie raises her voice. ‘Guys!’

  When we turn we see that more Moth Twos are converging on the other side of the train. There must be at least another twenty of them. And they are going to catch up with us.

  GG babbles on the tannoy. ‘There’s less train to pull since we lost a couple of carriages. We can go so much faster. So strap yourselves in. It’s going to be a bumpy ride.’

  The train continues to pick up speed.

  But so do the Moth Twos. They stretch their long sinewy limbs and cover the ground at breakneck speed.

  ‘Nothing suffocates you more than the passing of everyday human events.’ It’s the beginning of ‘The Fight Song’ by Marilyn Manson and it’s booming out of the Ape’s phone.

  I resist the pull of the train’s increased momentum and drag myself toward the Apes.

  ‘Dazza.’

  They both turn to me, blissfully unaware of the Moth Twos.

  ‘Worm,’ Non-Ape replies. He has a new name for me now. Though I think I prefer Pinkhead. Just.

  ‘That song you’re listening to—’ I tell them, watching the first of the Moth Twos pulling alongside the train.

  ‘Best song ever!’ The Ape high-fives Non-Ape.

  ‘Well, it’s for real,’ I say, and point outside the window to the swarming black tide. ‘It’s time to fight.’

  No four words could ever sound better to an Ape.

  Their eyes locate and lock onto the Moth Twos who are closing in on the train.

  ‘Yowza,’ the Ape says calmly.

  ‘Worm,’ Non-Ape says.

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Switch your hand on.’

  I keep forgetting he thinks I’m the Rev from his world.

  ‘Switch it on,’ Non-Ape repeats and, moving with the speed of a natural-born warrior, he grabs and snaps the metal poles commuters cling to in rush hour and starts handing the broken pieces out as weapons.

  ‘Throats!’ The Ape grabs a metal pole, equally genius in the ways of war.

  The first of the Moth Twos reaches the side of the train. He leaps and lands with a hard dull whump that echoes through the carriage, as he drives his talons into the side of it for purchase.

  ‘OhmyGod,’ the Moth says as another Moth Two lands on the other side of the train and he spins to watch him use his lethal talons to penetrate the metal coachwork and cling on.

  The Johnsons are up and tensed, looking from one side of the train to the other.

  Another Moth Two lands on the far side of the train.

  Then another.

  And another.

  Whump, whump, whump.

  Johnson looks to Other-Johnson. ‘Tell me your Ape can smash them.’

  ‘He can smash anything.’ Other-Johnson is assured of this.

  Whump.

  Whump.

  Whump, whump, whump.

  More leaping Moth Twos are landing on the train like flies on a windscreen.

  Whump, whump, whump.

  They’re swarming all over the outside of the carriage.

  Johnson unsheathes his talons.

  Whump, whump, whump.

  The tips of the Moth Twos’ talons pierce all along the carriage.

  Billie seems to have frozen in her seat.

  ‘They’re everywhere!’ GG’s shrill voice booms out of the tannoy. ‘Begone, you wretched creatures.’

  Other-Johnson grips a metal pole, as he stands back to back with me. ‘Where the hell did they come from?’ he mutters.

  London doesn’t seem like such a good idea any more.

  More Moth Twos land and attach themselves to the carriage. By the sound of it some are climbing towards the roof, scurrying fast like giant beetles along the bodywork.

  The natural light in the carriage is disappearing as the Moth Twos land and blot out the windows. There is no telling how many of them there are.

  GG is giving it all the speed he’s got but even he knows we’re lost. ‘Is it too late to apologise for the business with the head?’

  But even Other-Johnson has never seen the likes of this before. ‘I didn’t know the Moth could replicate.’

  ‘He was dead,’ I respond. ‘We killed him . . .’

  ‘You didn’t kill him enough,’ he replies.

  ‘Hey! Can someone please give me a weapon?’ the Moth yells.

  The Ape plants a sharp metal pole in his hands.

  ‘They’ll have to come through me first,’ he assures the Moth and stands ready to shield him. ‘And that isn’t happening.’

  Marilyn Manson’s plea for fighting reaches a crescendo, acting as a signal to the Moth Twos. ‘Fight! Fight! Fight!’

  The first window shatters and in they pour.

  Non-Ape might be unbeatable, but there are so many Moth Twos that there’s no room for his huge bulk to manoeuvre and the size of the carriage is cramping his effectiveness. He punches the life out of every Moth Two that attacks him, breaking them apart with thunderous blows, but he can’t keep all of them at bay.

  They snap and stab at him, slashing and biting as his ferocious power repels them. They keep coming though, focusing as many of their legion as they can entirely on him.

  They crash in through the windows and above Non-Ape the ones on the roof start tearing a hole in the top of the carriage. Moth Twos only seem interested in Non-Ape and it dawns on me that anyone with a better brain than the average man in the street would do this. They’d send the first wave for the strongest one amongst us. They’ll keep him royally occupied while the second wave comes for us. There’s got to be about forty of them, half on the train, half running alongside, awaiting their chance.

  Their assault on Non-Ape is savage and brutal and, no matter how many he smashes and hurls through the broken windows, replacements keep climbing through. He is twisting and turning, pounding or tearing them apart, but I know it’s a battle ploy. I so know it.

  Moth Two is just as smart as our Moth.

  Splatters of black blood start to soak the inside of the carriage. Their broken bodies are even used to batter live ones and Non-Ape bellows as loud as he can as smashed Moth Twos are ejected from the carriage.

  The Ape joins the fight and wields his metal pole like a samurai, stabbing and slashing, a thing of terrible beauty to anyone who wants to live through this. Namely me. He bends and arcs and moves with all the fury of a warrior born. Moth Twos keep coming and I try to copy the Ape, but almost take Johnson down as he weaves through the carriage, taking the fight to the Moth Twos.

  ‘Rev!’ He ducks and is then past me.

  He has power and speed but when the Moth Twos finally tear open the roof and three of them plunge into the carriag
e he is swiftly taken down. I scream and charge with all the desperate fury I possess at the vicious snapping creatures. They are not getting Johnson, not now, not ever. I fight dirty and ram the metal pole into the back of their exposed necks but it only works if I drive it straight through to the other side. I slam and plunge and pound the metal pole as Johnson slices and slashes at the Moth Twos crawling over him. It’s a grim and graceless assault but I didn’t come here to play nice.

  Souped up, Johnson throws the last Moth Two in the opposite direction to the driver’s compartment and springs to his feet. Incredibly, in fact impossibly, he is unscathed and gives me the Johnson nod as another Moth Two drops into the carriage behind us.

  Other-Johnson keeps forgetting that he has less than super abilities and his moves are slower than he expects and he has to keep compensating. Why didn’t he swap when he had the chance? He has the upper hand only in that his kind are more savage than us. He possesses that something extra, which makes him a natural killer, and he’ll be damned before he goes down. The Moth Twos come for him as Billie sinks down in her seat, her head in her hands.

  So far they either haven’t noticed her or they don’t care. She’s just a puny human to them, and there’s no way she can escape them. I have a terrible thought they’re saving the rest of us till after they’ve taken Non-Ape down.

  Non-Ape crushes every Moth Two that gets in his way because he has seen how scared Billie is and he will not, not ever, let any harm befall her. Her panic and fear gives him renewed strength and he bellows again as he hurls Moth Twos from the train.

  Other-Johnson is driven back towards the second carriage by a group of Moth Twos. They are cutting him off. Johnson and I are being driven in the opposite direction. They’re splitting us up, carving our gathered might into smaller, more manageable pieces.

  The Apes stand savage and brutal, repelling and killing every attack as our Moth sits there, unable to do anything but grip his weapon and try and avoid the sprays of black blood that continue to decorate the carriage. Non-Ape’s matchless power and reserves of stamina power his massive arms and hands as he punches and snaps and crushes. But they keep on coming.

  Whump, whump, whump.

  Every Moth Two we take down is swiftly replaced by another.

  Whump, whump, whump.

  That sound is starting to eat into me. Is there no end to them?

  A Moth Two leaps in through the window and onto my back and I feel the talons tear my clothes as it drags me down to the floor.

  ‘Johnson!’

  Johnson is quick but the Ape is quicker. He’s on the Moth Two in a heartbeat, plunging his metal pole straight into its neck.

  ‘Watch your back!’ he tells me. Like I needed telling.

  GG bursts from the driver’s compartment and slams the door shut behind him.

  ‘They’re coming in the front!’

  GG braces himself against the door as more Moth Twos hammer at it, their talons bursting through and nearly slicing into him until Non-Ape pushes through, drags GG out of the way and uses his back and powerful legs to keep the door closed.

  ‘I got this.’

  ‘God you’re wonderful,’ GG says and then ducks as a Moth Two swoops down for him from the torn open ceiling.

  Non-Ape crushes that Moth Two’s neck in an instant.

  ‘Be still, my beating heart.’ GG ducks and dodges his way to the Moth who is sitting crouched waiting to fight. GG takes the metal pole from him.

  ‘Get under the table, go on, get under it.’

  ‘I’m fighting,’ the Moth tells him and I know he is fighting for Carrie and GG knows it as well and backs away.

  ‘Then we fight together.’

  GG stands back to back with the Ape as they struggle to keep the Moth Twos at bay.

  ‘There’s so many of them!’ GG cries.

  ‘I know.’ The Ape grins in delight.

  I glance at Non-Ape and I’m not sure if it’s his blood or just more dark splashes from the Moth Twos but I think he’s injured. I think the talons slicing through the driver’s door, are hurting him and I swear I see him wince.

  That is not possible. It can’t be. He’s our only real hope of surviving this.

  Billie is crouched low under a table and Johnson has taken it upon himself to stand protectively on top of it, crouching low as he jabs hard through the smashed window at the Moth Twos clinging on outside until they lose their grip on the speeding train and fall off.

  Johnson is doing all in his power to protect Billie. I want to drag her from under the table and get her to do something to help. But the Moth Twos continue to snap and snarl and lunge and I can’t hold them off.

  Whump, whump, whump.

  More Moth Twos land and jump in through the smashed, gaping windows and Johnson sets about them, a blur of death-dealing motion.

  Non-Ape is being slashed in the back over and over as he keeps the Moth Twos in the driver’s compartment from breaking through.

  The train is hurtling along the track and still they keep leaping and landing.

  Above us the torn roof reveals Moth Twos perched round the edges of the huge hole, glaring down at us with their dead eyes and grinning mouths.

  ‘Are they laughing?’ Johnson can’t believe it and climbs out through the smashed window and hauls himself outside. He takes them by surprise – a second later a Moth Two is hurled from the roof, flying past the window and landing in an ugly bone-snapping pile by the track.

  Another Moth Two drags me down and its teeth snap and snarl an inch from my face until Non-Ape crushes its head by slapping his hands together round it. The thick black blood spurts everywhere and I get it in my eyes and mouth.

  It tastes like oil and the amount of black blood that has been spilled in this carriage could heat a school for a month. I retch from the taste, spitting and coughing.

  Non-Ape turns and yanks the driver’s door off its hinges. He uses it as a shield and ploughs straight into the Moth Twos filling the tiny driver’s compartment.

  They slash and bite him. His back is torn and bleeding and his black blood is mingling with theirs. Turns out if he’s cut enough times, he’s just the same as the rest of us – he bleeds.

  ‘Ape!’ I call to him but he is too intent on shoving the onrush of Moth Twos back into the driver’s compartment to pay any attention to me. His idea is pure genius. He shoves them clear through the broken windows at the front of the train where they are instantly crushed under the oncoming wheels.

  The train bumps and shudders from impact after impact and throws us all off balance. GG is flung towards me and I almost stab him in the face. The Ape staggers as he slams a Moth Two back towards the doors. He hits the EMERGENCY OPEN button and the beeping door opens automatically and the Moth Two flies out. But another shunt almost sends the Ape out after him and GG dives for his black coat and hangs on to it for dear life.

  ‘Not your stop, Dazza!’

  With GG’s help the Ape pulls himself back into the carriage, turns and drives his pole past GG’s face and into the throat of another Moth Two.

  But it’s no good. There’s too many of them; they keep on coming. We’ve got a souped-up Johnson and a not-quite-invincible Ape, but it’s not enough. If they can cut Non-Ape, they will cut us all.

  Other-Johnson knows exactly what I’m thinking as he is pushed further into the rear carriage and Moth Twos crowd around him.

  ‘Can you read them?’ I pant over the airwaves. ‘What do they want?’

  Other-Johnson tries to get a mental image or a thought, grabbing it from the horde of Moth Twos.

  ‘Oh, God!’ he says. ‘Rev! They’re after the Moth!’

  He’s a second too late as taloned panther arms reach in through the smashed window and wrap round the Moth’s neck.

  Moth barely has time to scream as he is wrenched from his seat and dragged out of the train.

  ‘Moth!’ I scream.

  Johnson leaps back into the carriage in time to see the Moth’s
weak, spindly legs disappearing out of the window.

  ‘They took him!’ I yell. ‘They took the Moth!’

  Johnson doesn’t hesitate and gives it all the black-eyed ferocity he can muster but as he lunges after the Moth the train runs over a fallen Moth Two and bounces him out of the window.

  Even from her hiding place Billie has seen him disappear and screams. ‘Johnson!!’

  First the Moth, now Johnson. I clamber towards the window thinking we’ve lost both of them, when Johnson’s hand reaches up and grabs the jagged edge of the broken window as he hangs on for dear life to the outside of the train. All around us the few Moth Twos that are left start retreating, leaping from the train, one of them almost taking Johnson with him, another barging me out of the way and knocking me into a torn and slashed seat.

  When I look up Johnson is trying to pull himself back into the window, but he is battered by the black blur of escaping Moth Twos.

  ‘Johnson!’ Billie screams again.

  I scrabble as quickly as I can towards him, shouldering into a Moth Two in my desperation. He turns and looks at me and grins with a full set of glinting teeth. ‘You’re never going home again,’ he hisses spitefully.

  He leaps out of the train as I finally reach Johnson and try to pull him back into the carriage. I’m so desperate to save him that I suddenly have the strength of ten teenage girls and drag him back inside before falling and landing on my back. Johnson crashes down on top of me and for a second the world stops.

  His eyes find mine and there is nothing but us in the carriage. It could be a microsecond or it could be a century but we are together. He knows it. I know it.

  Then out of the corner of my eye I see Billie crouching under the table, staring at us.

  At me.

  And there is nothing but dark there. Her eyes, her heart, her soul. It is all wrapped up in an unforgiving blackness.

  Other-Johnson breaks the moment by helping to pull Johnson to his feet.

  ‘No sleep till Hammersmith,’ he tells Johnson, but he is already reaching for me and helping me to my feet.

  I can’t stop looking at Billie crouching on the floor, looking like an animal partially obscured by shadows. You know it’s there but you don’t know what it’s going to do. Or if it’s scared or angry. You hope scared, but you sort of know it won’t make any difference if it decides to attack.