Shift #2

by Jeff Povey

  Neither option is a good one.

  The Ape unzips his jeans and lets a torrent of urine hit the track. He has his back to us but we can clearly see the spray as he directs it in an arc across the track.

  After he finishes and zips up he turns to us. ‘I was here,’ he announces, but I have no idea what he’s doing. Maybe even he’s been tipped over the edge.

  Johnson whispers in my ear. ‘I think he’s marking his territory.’

  The Ape roars suddenly. ‘I! WAS! HERE!!’

  His bellow echoes across the emptiness. A defiant war cry, a call to arms and battle.

  It sends a quiet chill down my spine as he glares at whatever he thinks is out there. Challenging them to come for him. Daring them.

  And I know they will come. I know it just like Johnson and the Ape know it.

  I don’t know why they took the Moth or why they tried to bring Non-Ape down but they’ve played their hand and revealed something I’m only just starting to grasp.

  The two people who can help us go home are Non-Ape and the Moth.

  Non-Ape can unearth the papers.

  The Moth can read them.

  Someone really doesn’t want us to go home. Someone with incredible powers but who still fears us finding what we need.

  Well, whoever they are, you’re going to have to try a lot harder.

  GG, probably lying broken and battered somewhere in the miles between here and King’s Cross, gave his life to give us a chance.

  But he has also given us something more than that.

  He has given us anger. And if this person – thing, world, whatever! – wants a fight then they’ve got one. GG would be spinning in his leopard-print coffin if he thought he’d floated away for no reason.

  Non-Ape has eaten everything.

  There is literally nothing left in any of the kiosks or delis or fast-food outlets. He is back on his feet and all of his wounds are already beginning to self-repair. Seeing him looking better is the only positive thing in the past few hours.

  With him there’s still a chance to find the papers.

  The cuts that penetrated his hide – I can’t think of it as skin – are starting to disappear, or rather new hide, I suppose, is forming over them. He looks bigger now and like any teenage boy all he really needs to do to be happy is eat and eat and eat.

  And then fart.

  We reach the concourse in time for the noxious gas to hit. I’ve got my mouth open because I’m panting from the long walk back and I accidentally suck it down into my lungs.

  And immediately retch. ‘Good God.’

  Non-Ape farts again and it’s a borderline sonic boom.

  ‘Ape!?’ Other-Johnson waves the stench away as Non-Ape laughs.

  ‘Breathe that!’

  The Ape lurches from his silent mourning and leans his head forward, breathing in as much of the disgusting smell as his lungs can hold.

  He exhales. ‘Channel number five!’

  Non-Ape laughs in return. ‘Number five from a number two!’

  They seem to have an instinctive repartee that only they understand.

  Non-Ape farts again. ‘Bombing the coast!’

  The Ape responds. ‘Coast is toast.’

  I briefly wonder if they have the same gassy scent. Would that happen? If you’re a complete double, then I think it’s got to be more than likely.

  The farts at least seem to have roused the Ape a little and pulled him out of the painful reality he has been enduring.

  On the way back we have made a pact, a solemn promise, to find both GG and the Moth. We are going home with them, make no mistake.

  Other-Johnson is pleased to see us. Or me at least. ‘Any luck?’ Then: ‘Sorry. Stupid question.’

  ‘We couldn’t find either of them.’

  ‘So what now?’

  ‘We carry on,’ Johnson says.

  ‘Any idea where that hotel is? Was.’

  GG had texted me the name a few days ago but my phone is still not working. I rescued it after hurling it into the snow, but it’s still useless. If it was working I’d be able to read the text and this would run as smooth as smooth. But nothing seems to happen like that in this world.

  ‘London,’ I reply.

  ‘That narrows it down.’

  The black cab the Ape drove all the way to the ticket barriers when we were last here has been tipped on its side and flattened by the crashed train.

  ‘We’ll need a car,’ he says.

  ‘Bigger than a car. Non-Ape has eaten so much he won’t fit in one.’

  There is no one to make any outrageous or inappropriate GG-style jokes when Johnson returns from one of the clothes shops that make up part of the small shopping area set off from the main concourse.

  ‘We should get changed.’

  We are still covered in the splatter of drying black blood and he has found an American-style outlet. His taste isn’t as exquisite as GG’s but there are showers in the toilets on the mezzanine and after using one and then drying myself I pull on jeans and a white T-shirt. I emerge from the toilets to find that everyone is wearing jeans and white T-shirts apart from Non-Ape who will have to find an extra-large-man shop somewhere. His clothes are cut to ribbons and hang off him. The rest of us look like we’ve walked out of a fifties rock ’n’ roll musical.

  I can’t fault Johnson for grabbing whatever he could find but it makes me think of GG even more acutely and again I have to suck it up and keep it together.

  When I emerge there is no sign of Billie.

  ‘Anyone see where she went?’

  The Apes and the Johnsons look at one another but have no answers.

  ‘Can you scan the airwaves?’ I ask Other-Johnson.

  He does so and looks momentarily confused.

  ‘What?’

  ‘I can’t scan anyone.’

  After pouring every ounce into harnessing Non-Ape, Other-Johnson’s mental powers have faded alarmingly, which could mean he won’t be able to switch back, even if he wants to. Johnson will hate this but if Other-Johnson has a plan then it’s all working out beautifully. He’s going to make it impossible for Johnson to belong in my world.

  ‘Give me a moment.’ He takes a few silent breaths and tries to focus.

  I wait. But I also wonder, Is he faking this?

  ‘Anything?’ Johnson asks.

  ‘Sorry.’ Other-Johnson’s sigh seems forced. Or maybe he’s just exhausted like the rest of us.

  ‘Doesn’t matter.’ I suddenly know where she’ll be. ‘Dazza?’

  ‘Yeah?’ They both answer but it’s my Ape I want. ‘Fancy a walk?’

  ‘Just been on one.’

  ‘It’s not far. Just across to St Pancras.’

  Non-Ape straightens. ‘I’ll come.’

  ‘If he’s going, I’m going,’ the Ape responds.

  ‘If you’re going, I’m going,’ Non-Ape responds.

  ‘You already were going,’ I tell him.

  ‘So I’m going too,’ Non-Ape replies.

  ‘I’m not getting left out,’ the Ape says.

  ‘You never were,’ I tell him.

  ‘How come I was getting dumped?’ Non-Ape asks.

  God, please help me. I have no idea how to hold a conversation when they get like this.

  ‘No one’s dumping anyone.’

  Non-Ape pouts. ‘No?’

  ‘Did I say that?’ My voice turns into a taut frustrated whine and I catch Johnson grinning to himself. It’s the tiniest light amid the grief and tragedy.

  ‘Did you?’ Non-Ape asks.

  ‘Listen! All I want to do is go to the Eurostar terminal. It’s not a trip to Disneyland.’

  ‘So who’s going on that?’ the Ape asks.

  Johnson slips a hand over his mouth to stop himself from laughing.

  I’m standing there between the human equivalent of a hill and a mountain, dwarfed by them.

  ‘I want to go on that trip,’ Non-Ape declares.

  ‘If he’s going, I�
��m going,’ the Ape declares.

  I try and spell it out as simply as I can to them. ‘We’re just walking across the street to another train station. I didn’t want to go alone.’

  ‘Never been to Disneyland,’ Non-Ape says. ‘So going to punch that big mouse.’

  ‘Forget it, I’ll go on my own,’ I mutter, hiding my face in my hands.

  ‘So you don’t want me?’ the Ape says.

  ‘Yes! Yes I do!’

  ‘What about me?’ Non-Ape looks hurt.

  Johnson has to turn away he is laughing so hard now. Other-Johnson has wandered away as he tries to come to terms with the loss of his telepathic powers. He looks bereft, or at least pretends to, but that’s the price you pay for wanting to be a measly human.

  ‘Let’s just go.’

  ‘Where?’ Non-Ape asks.

  I wave my hand in a big open gesture. It encapsulates half the entire world as far as I’m concerned. ‘Anywhere!’ I snap.

  ‘Just had to say,’ Non-Ape says.

  ‘Moo-dy,’ the Ape adds.

  ‘Why would Billie be at St Pancras?’ Johnson asks.

  ‘Because she wants to escape. While we’re getting her, can you find us a street map, or something that lists all the hotels in London. We might recognise the name.’

  Johnson gives his lazy salute, but this time he uses a talon to do it, and it doesn’t quite work or look as cool as it did before. He did it almost too naturally. I’m scared he’s changing from the boy he used to be.

  The Apes and I emerge into an empty street that is usually heaving with traffic and people. Commuters and holidaymakers are either jumping in and out of black cabs or dragging tons of luggage while they try to shepherd their families.

  I’ve never been to this station because I’ve never been to Europe; in fact, I’ve never been out of England. Mum isn’t much of a traveller and gets nervous at the thought of aeroplanes. I used to beg her to at least get on a ferry to France or let me go on a school trip but the reality was she couldn’t afford it. Besides, she’d worry horribly if I were in a place she couldn’t come and rescue me from. She is a professional worrier and I can only imagine the state she would be in if she could see what I’m going through right now.

  I remember my non-mum finding the power to bring a town to a stop. It’s the same strength my real mum possesses when she thinks she has to fight for me. They are both lost in their worlds, almost invisible as they crouch and cower from their lot in life, but put their daughter in danger and they’ll bring hell with them if they have to. They have passed that on to me and Rev Two, and I will bring more than hell if it means getting what I want.

  The Apes flank me as we climb the steps to the entrance to St Pancras. The shopping area is completely deserted but I check the signs and the Eurostar platforms are only a few metres to our right.

  There is no sign of Billie but I quicken my pace and reach the sleek automatic barriers that prevent access to the platforms.

  I jump up and climb in the least ungainly way possible over the nearest ticket barrier. The pathway to the trains looms ahead of us as I hear Non-Ape wrench the barrier out of his way. ‘Tickets please!’ he yells, laughing.

  The Ape copies him. ‘Tickets!’

  ‘TIIICCKKKKEEEETS!!’ Non-Ape bellows even louder.

  His voice echoes around the station as a lone Eurostar train waits patiently on platform one. It’s a long bullet of a train composed of carriages that all but disappear into the distance.

  I still can’t see Billie but I’m sure she’s around somewhere.

  ‘TIIICCKKKKKETTTTTS!’ Non-Ape bellows again and my ears ring.

  ‘All right, I get the joke. I got it the first time.’

  ‘Double moo-dy,’ Non-Ape mumbles.

  ‘Such a girl,’ the Ape whispers to him.

  ‘Yeah, a real girl,’ Non-Ape whispers back. Only their idea of whispering is not whispering at all because I can hear everything they say.

  I raise a hand and press the ENTRY button on the first carriage. The door hisses with a sigh and then unfolds and opens wide, revealing a carriage that is much bigger than I was expecting. It’s first class and there are plush seats and tables with crockery and cutlery set out on them.

  I can feel my shoulders tingle.

  The world is playing with me again.

  The obvious thing would be for me to climb aboard the train and for it to miraculously start up and kidnap me all the way to another country, where I’d be stuck for good. Only I wouldn’t be stuck because I’d load up with supplies and follow the track all the way home, on foot no less. But that’s what I’d do. No matter how many weeks it took I would trek all the way back here. So take that and eat it, world.

  The Ape steps forward and peers into the carriage. His great head moves slowly one way, and then the other.

  He does it twice for good measure then steps back. ‘Empty.’

  There must be at least eight long carriages coupled to each other and all of them stand silent and still. I’m convinced Billie is aboard one of them. ‘Let’s try the next one.’

  We move to the next carriage and a squabble breaks out because the Apes want to press the OPEN button.

  ‘My turn,’ the Ape says.

  ‘No, mine.’

  ‘You can do the next one.’

  ‘I want this one.’

  I jab the button to bring the foolishness to a halt. Both Apes look miserable.

  ‘Wasn’t your turn,’ Non-Ape says to me.

  I lean into the open carriage but I’m not tall like the Ape and can’t see half as much as he could.

  I dare to edge in closer. Billie could be seated in the carriage but I can’t see past the interior door. I put a put a foot into the carriage and lean further in.

  ‘I’m pressing the next button,’ Non-Ape declares.

  The carriage seems empty.

  ‘No you ain’t,’ the Ape warns.

  But I should make sure. Billie is struggling badly and is not herself. I climb into the carriage but I’m careful to keep very close to the open door. It couldn’t possibly have time to shut before I could leap out.

  ‘Am,’ Non-Ape says.

  ‘Billie?’ I call out.

  ‘Ain’t.’

  ‘Am.’

  ‘Ain’t.’

  ‘Am.’

  At the far end of the carriage the adjoining door between the carriages opens with a very gentle hiss of air. It catches me by surprise.

  But the invitation is obvious.

  Come this way, Rev.

  Behind me the Apes set off along the platform, charging to be the first to reach the OPEN button on the third carriage door.

  The next carriage awaits me but at least the Apes will be there.

  I venture forth.

  The door to the platform closes behind me.

  But I was expecting that.

  I gather myself and head down the carriage, reaching the open adjoining door. I step through and more silence and stillness awaits me.

  I hear the Ape wins the race to the next button and jabs it hard. ‘Yowza!’

  But the door doesn’t open. The Ape tries it again. It doesn’t work.

  Non-Ape joins him. ‘Ha!’

  I can see them outside and know that Non-Ape could tear this carriage apart if he wanted. So I’m all right. I’m not in any danger.

  Except the idiots decide to charge for the next carriage, which takes them further down the platform – and further away from me.

  What the hell?

  I go to the window and start banging hard on it. ‘Hey! What are you doing? Come back!’ But the window is triple-glazed or reinforced in some way because my banging fists make a dull thud and little more. I sprint for the nearest carriage doors and start jabbing at the EXIT button.

  Nothing.

  They refuse to open.

  The Apes are already finding that the next carriage down is similarly locked and are charging further down the platform again, racing to try and beat
each other in their stupid button-pushing duel.

  I step back from the doors and kick them hard. I don’t even make a dent. I remember the emergency hammer that Carrie found on GG’s train, which we used to hack open the driver’s door. I look all around but can’t see one.

  ‘Johnson!’ I try to send a message to Other-Johnson, but then remember that his brainpower isn’t functioning.

  OK, I think. Stay calm. It’s coming and you know it’s coming so be ready. Clear your mind. Clear it of everything but the need to find Billie and get her away. I promised her that nothing would happen to anyone else, and I’m not going to let her down.

  I head for the next adjoining door between compartments but it won’t open either. It’s thin and mainly made of glass or Perspex so I start kicking hard at it.

  A gentle hand alights on my shoulder and I half scream and spin.

  Billie stands before me.

  I have no idea how I missed her. Was she hiding under another table? She looks like she’s got a fever. Her skin is clammy and her eyes are bloodshot. And black.

  I throw my arms round her. ‘Billie!’

  Billie wriggles away and takes a couple of steps back. ‘Don’t, Rev.’

  ‘Billie. C’mon, we’ve got to go. I was so worried for a second.’

  She looks like she’s been crying again and what little mascara she had left is running down her cheeks, some of it trickling into the gouges in her cheek. ‘How pathetic was I on the train?’ she asks.

  ‘Doesn’t matter.’

  ‘I wanted to fight, I did.’

  ‘It wouldn’t have changed what happened. They came for the Moth. We were overrun and . . .’ I trail off. I can’t get GG out of my head and try hard to stay focused. ‘We’ve got a hotel to find.’

  ‘What?’ She looks shocked. ‘You’re really still thinking about finding the papers? What’s the point now without the Moth?’

  ‘And what’s the point in giving up?’

  ‘I found this train.’

  ‘No one knows how to drive one of these things.’

  ‘It can’t be that difficult. Press a few buttons and bonjour, Paris.’

  ‘Billie, forget it. We are not running.’

  ‘You don’t even know where the hotel is.’

  ‘We’ll find it.’

  Billie slowly shakes her head. ‘We’re beat.’

  ‘No.’