Shift #2

by Jeff Povey

  Strangely enough I don’t feel like celebrating the fact that we’re witnessing some kind of new phenomenon. I’ve seen enough to last a lifetime as it is.

  ‘That is some serious mental power,’ he adds, beguiled by the wonder of it. Which is so not any Johnson’s way. ‘When you think about it, they could make anything happen.’

  My eyes find Other-Johnson’s as we both hit the same hideous thought together. ‘If it’s been with us this whole time, then it created all those Moth Twos.’

  We both take a long moment to let the thoughts settle. I am trying my best to sense another presence and I know Other-Johnson is too.

  ‘It’s got to be close, Rev.’

  OK, so it’s able to alter reality, reanimate the dead, cause static for telepaths and now it’s invisible. That’s just too much. It’s not a fair fight. It’s really not.

  ‘Why did you have to go and say that?’ I tell Other-Johnson.

  ‘Someone had to.’

  I lean closer to Other-Johnson and whisper in his ear. ‘You have to get your head fixed.’

  ‘I’m trying,’ he whispers back.

  The giant digital clock stops.

  It takes me a moment to realise it but the read-out has stopped turning over. Lights flicker all around the station. Non-Ape stands stock-still, alert and listening.

  A ripple of alarm runs from one of my shoulders to the other. Then it comes back again, a slow shiver. A very gentle alarm.

  Non-Ape starts to look around, turning three hundred and sixty degrees.

  We’re not alone.

  Other-Johnson’s eyes flick left then right.

  ‘Rev?’

  ‘I know.’ I try to stay calm as I can.

  Other-Johnson calls to Non-Ape. ‘Ape. Be ready.’

  Non-Ape might be slow of mind in almost every aspect, but the merest whiff of danger turns him into Einstein.

  ‘Already there,’ is all he needs to offer as his eyes skim our surroundings.

  We are completely vulnerable, standing on the open concourse and with no chance of hiding from whatever is out there. And where’s Johnson – and the Ape for that matter? Why did I send them away?

  I look to Other-Johnson and I know he’s trying his level best to mind read whatever is out there.

  ‘I’m not getting anything,’ he tells me, sounding frustrated. ‘Still just static.’

  Non-Ape stands taller, listening hard. He’s definitely got enhanced hearing considering he seemed to be able to find me in the pitch-black of the alley outside the private hospital.

  ‘Anything?’

  He holds up a massive finger, as in be quiet.

  But it’s coming.

  I know it is. This world gifted me with a spider sense, and at first I thought it was a blessing. But the way this world has been coming after me I think it’s more of a taunt. As if it’s saying, Trouble is coming your way, little Reva, and guess what, I’m going to make sure you’re scared first. I want to savour every last drop of your fear.

  The footsteps are fast. Leather on cold tile.

  We turn as one.

  It’s Johnson. He’s moving quickly, inhuman legs pumping.

  ‘Let’s go!’

  ‘What? What is it?’ Other-Johnson is looking all around. ‘I don’t see anything!’

  ‘Johnson?’ I can’t see what he’s running from.

  Johnson lets himself skid the last few metres across the polished concourse, as if he’s on ice, before he stops right in front of me. Gliding as if he’s in slow-mo.

  He waves something in the air and it takes me a while to work out that it’s a map.

  A London street map to be precise. An A to Z.

  ‘One map, madam.’

  He presents it to me with a flourish, like a knight from the realm.

  My shoulders are still buzzing with danger. Non-Ape and Other-Johnson are on high alert too.

  We stay silent for a long moment and Johnson frowns. ‘What?’

  ‘We thought . . .’

  ‘Something was coming,’ Other-Johnson tells him.

  ‘It was. Me.’

  ‘No . . .’

  ‘Something bad.’

  ‘You were running like crazy,’ I say to Johnson.

  ‘Who wouldn’t with legs like these?’

  ‘There’s nothing chasing you?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Did you see Billie?’ I ask him.

  ‘Didn’t you find her?’ He looks concerned.

  I want to explain but I keep thinking something is going to arrive any second to try and kill us. Someone stopped that clock. Someone made the lights flicker. And that someone has to be right here amongst us. Or even worse. Inside one of us. Is that where they’re hiding?

  Non-Ape looks around the empty station. Eating everything in sight has somehow made him grow huge. He must be ten feet tall. Everything about him, from his eyebrows to his toes, must be about fifty per cent bigger. There are no clothes that will fit but GG would have tutted mightily and fashioned a toga from a bedsheet. If he was still here of course . . .

  I can’t think of him without wanting to double over in agony.

  Non-Ape hears something and leans forward a few inches before angling his head towards the station entrance.

  Non-Ape straightens. He’s definitely heard something. He bunches his fists. ‘Worm. Get ready.’ His voice has dropped about two octaves because his voice box must be half as large again as it was before.

  Other-Johnson tenses. ‘What is it?’

  Non-Ape doesn’t answer but he is facing the huge entrance/exit of the station, eyeing the empty streets and shops outside.

  Johnson slips the map into his back pocket and then watches as the talons in his fingers appear. He still isn’t comfortable with them.

  ‘Careful with those,’ Other-Johnson tells him. ‘They could come in handy, especially where you might end up.’

  ‘And where would that be?’ Johnson replies.

  They square up to each other and I have to get between them, being mighty careful not to get a talon in the eye.

  ‘Johnson!’ I warn them.

  Non-Ape cracks his knuckles. ‘It’s here.’

  The roar of an engine fills my ears and I turn to see a bus heading straight for us. A gleaming red London bus. The shadows from the huge roof of the station blot out the windscreen and the driver but whoever is behind the wheel seems intent on driving straight for us.

  Non-Ape drags me behind him. ‘I got this.’

  Even their catchphrases are the same. The Non-Ape has grown so tall, my head is barely above his fleshy buttocks and if he were to fart again he’d probably blow me back onto the tracks.

  Johnson turns to me. ‘It’s OK, Rev, nothing’s going to—’

  With a colossal mind wrench Other-Johnson swaps bodies with Johnson. And finishes Johnson’s sentence for him.

  ‘—get you, Worm. Not while I’m around.’

  Johnson staggers as he finds himself back in his old body. ‘What the hell?’

  Johnson can’t find his feet. He looks like people do when they step off boats. He’s also directly in the path of the oncoming bus. Placed there on purpose by Other-Johnson?

  I rush out from behind Non-Ape and grab him and pull him out of the way, glaring at Other-Johnson. ‘Not funny!’

  The bus horn sounds loudly. Once. Twice. It’s a challenge. A call to arms.

  Whatever its intention, the sound is all Non-Ape needs because he sets off and charges straight for the bus.

  The horn sounds again. Non-Ape is twenty metres from it when the bus starts to brake.

  Hard.

  But impact is imminent and it is only now that I can see who’s behind the wheel. It’s the Ape! He’s driving a bus!?

  Non-Ape draws his mighty arm back, fist bunched. He flattened a hotel so this bus is going to disintegrate in seconds.

  ‘No, don’t!’

  The Ape is practically standing on the brakes as Non-Ape’s fist looms up in f
ront of him.

  ‘Stop!’ I scream.

  Fist is about to meet bus when Non-Ape is wrenched out of its path. Other-Johnson mentally drags the behemoth to one side but the bus still clips his mountainous body and bounces off him. The Ape loses control of the steering wheel and the bus crashes straight into the huge wall that obscures the intercity train lines behind it.

  An airbag blows up in the Ape’s face, the windscreen shatters and the station wall crumbles around the bus, bricks and mortar crashing down. I’m already running for the bus when the doors hiss open and the Ape, stunned and dizzy, steps from it and falls to his knees. I catch him as he tries to stay upright but he’s too heavy for me and he pitches forward and I end up pinned under him.

  His massive weight crushes me and we’re in a highly indelicate and unfortunate position as he slumps on top of me.

  ‘Ape?’ I exhale.

  The Ape looks down at me and I know his head is ringing from the impact. His eyes won’t focus.

  ‘Ape, say something! Ape.’

  The Ape looks down at me, his big head inches from my face. I can smell beer and cigarettes on his breath.

  ‘Dazza? Darren,’ I say.

  ‘Huh?’ His tongue flops from his mouth.

  ‘It’s me, Rev. You know me, right?’

  His eyes open and shut and when they open again he’s turned cross-eyed.

  ‘Dazza!’

  But then he grins. ‘Gotcha!’ He uncrosses his eyes and sucks his tongue back into his mouth.

  ‘You big idiot!’

  The Johnsons have joined us and they start pulling the Ape away. ‘You’re crushing her.’

  ‘She’s loving it.’ He grins again and then climbs to his feet. He turns and checks the crashed bus. ‘Skills.’

  ‘What? What skills?’ I say.

  ‘I’m a great parker.’

  ‘If you hadn’t already been braking . . .’ My eyes are scrunched up and I can feel tears behind them. ‘I am not losing you. You listening? I am not going to lose you.’ I can’t believe he doesn’t get how close he came to dying. I know we’ve been there before. I know I’ve almost lost him time and time again but this – this would have been the most stupid death imaginable. I beat at his great chest. ‘You’re an idiot! An absolute idiot!’

  He winces and I realise I’m beating at his bruised or broken ribs.

  ‘Easy now, easy,’ Other-Johnson says.

  The Ape looks down at me and I wipe my eyes and nose with the back of my hand. ‘I’m just saying, OK – go careful. For me. I need you.’

  ‘Got it the first time.’

  The Ape climbs stiffly back into the bus. He crunches the automatic gears into reverse and a shrill ear-splitting reversing beep echoes over and over as the bus pulls away from the wall.

  The Ape opens the bus doors with that customary hiss.

  ‘Tickets!’ Non-Ape pushes past us so that he can be first onto the bus. ‘I’m sitting at the back.’

  His huge weight makes the floor of the bus bow and dip.

  Johnson stops me as I head towards the bus. He leans in close to me and whispers in my ear. ‘I don’t trust him.’ He means Other-Johnson. ‘These things that are happening. He could be doing them.’

  ‘You think he’s capable of that?’

  ‘All I’m saying is we don’t know anything about him. He can put thoughts in our heads. He can jump around inside of us. But what if he can do a whole lot more?’

  My mouth dries a little. Is Other-Johnson creating all of this just to be with me? Removing anything that gets in the way? I’ve seen him lie so easily to get round people. He is dark and dangerous and yet so hard to resist.

  ‘He couldn’t possibly be able to,’ I whisper.

  ‘But he wants to be with you, Rev.’ Johnson meets my eyes. ‘And I know what that feels like.’

  I wait for him to follow up on that but he looks like he already thinks he’s said too much. He breaks eye contact and climbs on board the bus.

  He had the perfect opening but he didn’t go for it. I am still wondering if he ever will.

  I watch Other-Johnson stretching and getting accustomed to his old body. He clicks his neck and slips into the body like it’s a new suit.

  He spots me watching him.

  ‘My power suddenly came back. How about that?’

  ‘Yeah,’ I practically whisper. ‘Amazing.’

  ‘I missed this. Being stronger. And better.’ He grins.

  But I don’t return his grin.

  If he’s back in his proper body then maybe he wants to go home to his world after all.

  And maybe . . . just maybe, he’s planning to take me with him.

  It has taken ages to not find the rubble that was once a hotel.

  Two horribly gnarly hours of the Ape’s singular inability to listen to anything anyone tells him.

  We have driven past every possible London landmark in a fast-moving, non-stop sightseeing tour that no one wants to be on.

  We have passed Marble Arch, Buckingham Palace, the Tower of London, St Paul’s Cathedral, that battleship in the Thames, famous London theatres, the statue of Eros and Buckingham Palace again.

  Non-Ape lies along the rear seats, holding his hairy stomach. He has remained very quiet and when I catch sight of his pale face I think he must have been really hurt by the Moth Twos. I have no idea how many stabs or swipes it took to eventually penetrate his skin but he suffered countless cuts as he ploughed through their ranked masses.

  The wounds have healed, but I’m worried that he looks feverish and maybe there’s some internal damage that we don’t know about.

  He doesn’t seem to be aware that Billie is no longer with us. The old Non-Ape would have been all over that. He’s her shining knight.

  The Ape is driving too fast, swinging the bus round corners as if he was in a dodgem car. The continual swaying is playing havoc with the Non-Ape. ‘Slow down!’ I shout for the millionth time.

  ‘You said we were in a hurry,’ the Ape responds.

  ‘We need to stop and try and establish our bearings. We can’t just drive down every street in London.’

  The Ape dings the bell to drown me out. His thick hairy arms pull the power-assisted steering wheel one way and then the other.

  Other-Johnson joins Johnson and I can’t get over how if I was blindfolded I wouldn’t be able to tell which was which. Their voices are the same, their inflections are identical, even the words they choose are exactly alike. ‘Can you remember the name of the street?’

  ‘It was posh,’ Johnson says. ‘The hotel.’

  ‘So it’s in a posh area.’

  ‘You hear that?’ I rap on the thin plastic divider that keeps the bus driver from his public. ‘We need to go posh.’

  The Ape spins us round a tight corner and it’s too much for Non-Ape who retches violently.

  He’s at the back of the bus and projectile vomits all of the sandwiches, cakes, cookies and coffees he gorged himself on.

  I try to get out of the way as the torrent of vomit rushes down the aisle. ‘Open the door!’

  The acrid reek of Non-Ape’s stomach contents burns our nostrils and sting our eyes.

  The Ape, for once, does as he is told but the putrid torrent reaches my shoes just as the Ape yanks the bus round another sharp corner and I slip and slide and roll straight out of the open door.

  I thrust out a hand but can’t find anything to stop me crashing into the street. We are on a bridge. I’m not sure which one and I don’t really care as I land in a pitiful bone-jarring heap. I hear the bus braking hard and skidding to a halt. I gingerly feel for any breaks before I’m ready to sit up. My left shoulder is numb, both knees are grazed and I can feel a swelling at the back of my head, but as I stagger to my feet and lean against the stone wall of the bridge my eyes find the River Thames flowing below me.

  But it’s not the Thames that grabs my attention.

  It’s the pile of rubble on the other side of the bank. The rubble t
hat used to be a hotel before Non-Ape punched it senseless.

  We’ve found it, I think, then realise I really am the most stupid person ever to draw breath.

  Now that I can see the hotel in all its demolished glory I can safely say that this was actually the ultimate in idiotically desperate ideas. Cement and great chunks of wall, metal and plaster lie broken and doomed in a crushed mass. The rubble is piled higher than a small block of flats and the thought of finding a sheaf of scientific papers lost amongst it is ridiculous. Hopeless. We’re never going to escape. We don’t even have the Moth to read the papers that we’ll never ever find.

  The Ape sounds the bus horn from the bridge. ‘Found it!’ he yells.

  He sounds the bus’s horn over and over. ‘Found it! Rev! I’m a great tracker!’

  By the time I catch up with them he is outside the bus, leaning on it as he surveys the destroyed hotel.

  ‘Yowza,’ he purrs at his handiwork.

  Johnson lights a cigarette and probably feels the same way I do about the impossible task ahead. He blows a smoke ring and watches it float away. ‘Jeez, Rev.’

  Billie was right all along. I’m a useless fool, charging from one disaster to another while being torn between two boys and I don’t deserve to be with either of them.

  ‘Have you heard from Billie?’ I ask Other-Johnson telepathically.

  He doesn’t reply.

  ‘Hey!’ I say out loud.

  Other-Johnson turns to me and frowns. ‘What?’

  ‘Billie?’ But if he didn’t hear me in his head then he certainly won’t be able to find her.

  ‘Give me a minute.’ His voice sounds faint and distant in my head.

  ‘I thought you were back to your best.’

  ‘It comes and goes. It’s not like before.’

  ‘When you can, you need to find out about my dad. Has he woken yet?’ I literally force the thoughts into Other-Johnson’s head. ‘He might be our only chance now.’

  ‘I’ll do my best,’ Other-Johnson replies.

  But I don’t know if he’s lying or not.

  I really have no idea. Johnson’s doubts have started to make me question how much I can trust Other-Johnson. Maybe he locked the classroom door. Or maybe it was always open and he just made it look like he couldn’t open it.

  And is my dad in danger now? Perhaps he always was. What is the Other-Johnson planning? He’s smart and deadly and I’m starting to fear him more than I’ve feared anyone or anything.