by Helen Harper
‘Well,’ I said, ‘I almost got eaten by a swampy monster that’s now living in the canal, Monroe almost killed the last faery in Manchester and we bumped into Max. So perhaps it was wise that you stayed put.’
She blanched. ‘Oh.’
Monroe glared. ‘I didn’t almost kill the last faery in Manchester. I wanted to.’ He sniffed. ‘But I didn’t.’
Lizzy looked at me. ‘Are you alright?’
I nodded. ‘Fine. But I don’t think that Julie is the only person we have to worry about. We’re going to need to deal with Max properly or sooner or later he’s going to deal with us.’ My tone was ominous. It was meant to be. I sighed. ‘Anyway, where did all these people come from?’
She grinned. ‘We picked them up along the way. Most of them are on their own, so it seemed like a good plan to let them join us.’ She sent me a sudden, anxious look. ‘That’s okay, right?’
I grinned back. ‘That’s wonderful.’
Monroe rolled his eyes. ‘Don’t blame me when you’re all slaughtered in your sleep.’ Giving Julie a wide berth, he stomped off to help carry in the last of the supplies. There was a lot of work still be done, in every sense of the word.
There is a lot to be said for possessing an analytical mind, capable of sizing up a gambling table in one sweep. Before too long, I had everyone organised. With Cath’s help, Lizzy made a list of all the nearby houses, investigating their suitability and parcelling them out to our new arrivals. Each household received a care package to tide them over for the next few weeks, and tasks were doled out to ensure that we were less likely to run into trouble later down the line.
Now that we had more souls, the concerns I had about securing enough rations seemed less of an issue. I sent out everyone who was able to procure various items. By tacit agreement within our original group, the secret supply stashes we’d created were kept quiet, to be used at a later date if there were emergencies. In less than a couple of hours, it felt like everything was moving like a well-oiled machine. Of course, none of that made Monroe happy.
There were several minor injuries to attend to. Every time Julie glanced at one of the wounded survivors, I felt a nervous tug in the pit of my stomach. The blood that she’d taken from the hospital seemed to have satiated her – for now at least. Her benign expression didn’t quell my fears, but it was pleasing to see that the actress was capable of pulling her weight. With the sun sinking down over the horizon, she felt more confident strolling around the street and helping out. She spent considerable time kitting out a makeshift clinic where Cath could dress the worst of the wounds. While it probably wasn’t a coincidence that the vampire decided to volunteer at the one place where she’d come across more blood, her eagerness to help was satisfying.
Monroe decided to make himself useful by setting up barricades at either end of the street so that he could monitor who was entering and exiting. I hated the idea; it would only serve to shut us off and discourage others from joining our growing community. However, with the threat of Max still looming over us, not to mention the likelihood that more magically enhanced monsters might rear their ugly heads, I couldn’t argue too much. The more people who were here, the less likely it was that our location would remain hidden. With any luck, Max would leave us alone when he realised we were a force to be reckoned with.
‘You’re blocking out all the light with your barricade,’ I called out to Monroe, as he backed the last vehicle into place.
He didn’t deign to answer. He hopped out of the truck and raised an eyebrow. ‘Night is falling,’ he said, as if I were too dim to have noticed. ‘That’s why there is less light.’ He glanced around the street and checked his watch. ‘Only five short hours until Manchester is locked down. After that, we’re on our own.’
I pursed my lips. ‘I’ve been thinking about that. I know the government will have their hands full with evacuees, but Manchester is the third biggest city in Britain. There’s no way they’re going to abandon it completely. I reckon they’ll continue to drop supplies for those of us left here. They’ll send in troops to sort out things like that canal monster, and investigate everything else in order to make it safe. Magic or no magic, Manchester isn’t doomed. It can’t be.’
Monroe sent me a long-suffering look. ‘I don’t think…’
He didn’t finish his sentence. From overhead came the sound of an aircraft. It was several hours since the last one had roared past, so the fact that there was now another flying over the city filled me with joy. I sent him a triumphant glance and tilted my head back to watch.
‘Anyone still left in the city has to reach an evacuation point by midnight tonight,’ a loudspeaker boomed. ‘Your safety will not be guaranteed until you have left Manchester. Do not stop to take your belongings. Leave now. There are evacuation camps to the north, south, east and west. Do not stay in the city. This is a government directive.’
The language was considerably more forceful than it had been earlier in the day. Did that mean that a lot of people had ignored the instructions to leave and the government was under pressure to get everyone out? I dug my heels into the road, as if camouflaged soldiers were about to appear and haul me out kicking and screaming.
The helicopter, spotted us, flew over and hovered directly above our heads. ‘Leave now!’
I gave it a wave and a smile. The pilot was close enough for me to see the whites of his eyes. He glared down as if I were a complete idiot for not immediately running out of the city. Perhaps I was, but it didn’t stop me from smiling and waving more vigorously.
Monroe tutted. ‘You’re an idiot. You know you should evacuate. Everyone should evacuate.’
‘You’re not evacuating,’ I said.
His mouth flattened into a grim line. ‘I have a death wish.’
The pilot stayed where he was for one long moment. When it was obvious that we weren’t moving as instructed no matter what was said, he took the helicopter upwards. The loudspeaker started up again.
I started to turn away to check on the others when there was a strange crack and a flash of blue light filled the sky. I whipped round. ‘What the hell was that?’
‘Thunder,’ Monroe said. ‘And lightning.’
‘Blue lightning?’
He didn’t get the chance to answer. There was another illuminating flash of blue. It smacked directly onto the helicopter, which was still within view. The buzzing whirr of the blades turned into a whine and dark smoke filtered upwards. Oh shit. This wasn’t good.
The helicopter tilted alarmingly to the left then its back rotor gave out and it started to spin, as if completely out of the pilot’s control. I was already running towards the barrier towards it when it disappeared from sight completely and there was an almighty crash. Well, fuck.
I knew these streets. Using the side alleys that were all but invisible to anyone who wasn’t familiar with them, I reached the crash site within moments. Monroe was hot on my tail. The smoke and flames rising up from the wreckage were extraordinary.
I darted forward. Monroe grabbed my arm and hauled me back. ‘You can’t. It’s too dangerous.’
‘The pilot is still in there! We have to help him.’
‘Not,’ he said through gritted teeth, ‘if you’re going to get yourself killed in the process. The fire’s too strong and the whole thing might explode at any moment. Don’t lose your mind completely, Charlotte.’
‘I keep telling you,’ I hissed. ‘It’s Charley.’
I was irritated because he was right. I knew from my own experience that I wasn’t going to get close to the helicopter, not while it was burning like this.
I shook off Monroe’s arm. ‘I’m supposed to be some sort of enchantress,’ I told him. ‘There has to be a way to fix this.’ I had to find one quickly – that helicopter would soon be engulfed in flames. The pilot didn’t have long; the flames were licking towards the cockpit and I could make out the shape of his unconscious body.
If I’d thought that Monroe was going
to roll his eyes and wander off, I’d underestimated the man. His eyes narrowed, focusing on the burning aircraft. ‘That trick you pulled at the canal,’ he said. ‘When you used magic to bring yourself back to shore. Can you do the same but bring the pilot to us? Ideally without dragging him along the ground and through the fire.’
I swallowed. In theory it should be possible but Monroe was right: if I simply used magic to tug the pilot’s body, I’d end up pulling him through the worst of the fire. He’d be cremated before I even took a breath.
There wasn’t time to consider how it would work. The flames and heat were already growing to disastrous proportions.
I closed my eyes. It would be too difficult to watch if my actions did nothing more than hasten the pilot’s death. Somehow using my mind rather my vision seemed to make sense – but what the hell did I know? I was making this shit up as I went along.
I blocked out everything – the roar of the flames, the reek of petrol, the goosebumps making me shiver like I had a fever – and conjured up the image I needed. I imagined myself raising the pilot’s body up into the air then moving him out of the cockpit towards us.
Something unclicked deep in the recesses of my brain. It was working. I knew without looking that it was working. I could feel him moving. And then something snagged.
Beside me, Monroe drew in a sharp breath. ‘Seatbelt,’ he muttered. ‘He’s still clipped in.’
Shit. That was something I hadn’t thought of. ‘Can you see it?’ I asked, pressure building in my temples and throbbing painfully. ‘Can you describe it?’
‘It’s over his shoulders.’ He cursed. ‘Hang on.’
I squeezed my eyes tighter shut. My own heart was thumping loudly in my ears loud. Da dum. Da dum. Da dum. Da…
‘Crossed at his chest,’ Monroe said. ‘I think there’s a button at the front to release it. I can’t reach it or him.’ He paused. ‘I’m sorry.’
I barely heard his apology. I was already focusing, creating an imaginary finger to release the seatbelt and free the pilot. I tugged and tugged until I thought I had it, then Monroe muttered again. ‘Fuck.’
Alarm slammed through me and I almost lost my control completely. I could feel the pilot slipping from my mental grasp and I yelped.
‘Don’t stop!’ Monroe’s voice was urgent. ‘You’ve got him. I was … surprised.’
My mouth was as dry as sandpaper. I tried to swallow again before opening one eye a crack. The limp body of the pilot was coming towards us, inch by inch. He was floating and I was making it happen.
I gasped and hastily closed my eye. If I thought too much about what I was doing and what was making it happen, I’d lose my grip. I furrowed my brow and tensed every muscle. Come on. Come on.
From the very edges of my consciousness, I felt Monroe move. ‘I’ve got him. I’ve got him, Charley.’
I exhaled, feeling the release in my lungs. I hadn’t even realised I was holding my breath. The pressure in my head eased and my knees buckled.
We had the pilot. We’d done it.
Chapter Eighteen
‘He’s in a bad way.’ Cath’s brow was creased with worry.
I avoided looking at her bloodstained clothes and met her eyes. ‘There must be something you can do.’
‘Not enough. He’s lost too much blood and I think there’s internal damage.’ She gestured helplessly at the unconscious pilot. ‘All I can do is pat heads and sew up wounds. This is beyond me, far beyond me.’
In my peripheral vision I caught sight of Julie licking her lips. That was a sight I didn’t want to see.
‘You’ve done your best, Cath,’ I sighed. ‘That’s all we can ask.’ I reminded myself that, when all was said and done, she was only a kid and squeezed her arm reassuringly. ‘How long do we have till the city borders close?’
‘A little over three hours.’ Her fingers plucked at her sleeves. ‘The Army’ll be able to help him. They’ll have the equipment and the people to save him.’
‘Yeah.’ I sighed. ‘I know.’
Monroe glowered at me from the corner. ‘I’ll take him. I’m strong enough to fight anything that comes at us along the way and get him to where he needs to be.’ At my raised eyebrows, his glower intensified. ‘What?’ he demanded. ‘I’m not going to dump him on a street corner. If I say I’m going to take him out of the city then I will.’
I believed him. Monroe was too full of himself to be a liar; it wouldn’t suit his sense of pride to make things up. I was surprised, though. Maybe the werewolf was finally starting to see the light.
‘We’ll both go,’ I said firmly. ‘You can drive and I’ll navigate. That way there will be two of us if any more shit happens.’
‘I’m perfectly capable of doing this on my own.’
‘This is my city,’ I said in return. I was calm; I was serene; I wasn’t tempted to slap him again. Honest. ‘You’re a stranger. I can direct you and there won’t be any chance that you’ll get lost.’
He stared at me as if I were mad. ‘I have excellent navigational skills. I’ve never been lost in my life.’
‘And I’ve lived here all of my adult life. Half of the streets are impassable. I’ll be able to find the fastest alternative routes. The last thing you need is to find yourself stuck down a street with no way out, not when the clock is ticking and a man’s life hangs in the balance.’
He stalked over to me, using his size to loom, as if that would keep me at home. Then his nostrils twitched.
‘Are you scenting me?’ I asked, annoyed.
To my surprise, Monroe’s cheeks turned slightly pink. ‘You smell like death.’
‘Well,’ I snapped, ‘I’m not dead yet, so don’t go getting any ideas.’
‘And sunshine,’ he muttered. ‘You still smell like sunshine.’
Cath’s eyebrows shot up her forehead. She leaned in and sniffed too. ‘I don’t get death or sunshine.’ Her nose wrinkled. ‘Mould, maybe. With a hint of rotten eggs.’
Monroe shoved his hands in his pockets. ‘Whatever. If we’re going to go, we should leave now. It’s already dark, as it is.’ He stomped off, single-handedly picking up the pilot on the makeshift stretcher we’d fashioned. I’d have said he was showing off, but there was a gentleness about his movements. Well, well, well. Wonders would never cease.
‘He likes you,’ Cath said. ‘I mean, really likes you. Lucky you. In terms of sex appeal, he’s the goat.’
‘Pardon?’
‘Monroe is snatched.’
She wasn’t even speaking English.
‘I mean,’ Cath continued, ‘those eyes. On fleek. V on Fleek.’
Kill me now.
She ran her tongue over her lips. ‘Given half a chance, I’d take him by the—’
I raised my hand in warning. ‘Don’t say it. I mean it. I don’t want to hear whatever it is you’re about to say. I might not understand it but I still don’t want to hear it. You’re a child.’
‘I’m seventeen,’ she retorted.
‘Exactly.’ I batted my eyelashes, the very picture of an innocent adult who hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol, puffed a single cigarette, tried drugs or even thought about boys until I was at least twenty. Yeah, right. Then I gave her a quick grin and jogged after Monroe.
The Smart car was obviously out of the question; the pilot would never fit into it unless we were going to squish him into the foetal position and shove him in a footwell. Fortunately Lizzy, Jodie and Julie had snagged a postal van for their supply run. It was both nippy and roomy. Perfect.
Monroe laid the pilot down in the back. ‘You can drive if you want,’ he said gruffly, as if he were doing me a favour.
I shook my head. ‘Like I said, it’s better if I navigate.’
‘And I’m clearly the better driver anyway.’
It was like he had to have the last word. ‘No,’ I said. ‘It’s an appropriate division of labour based on our current situation. I’ll drive on the way back.’
‘I can’t wait.
’
‘You will.’ I smiled.
Monroe’s expression was studiously bland as he examined me. ‘You have to have the last word, don’t you?’
I gasped. ‘That’s you, not me!’
‘Hardly.’
‘It is. In fact…’
From the back, the pilot groaned. It didn’t sound good. I snapped my mouth closed. ‘Let’s go.’
I got into the passenger seat. Monroe walked round and slid inside the car too. His lips curved up into a tiny smile. ‘I win.’
I’d been expecting us to come across more monsters. It was dark now; surely that was when they would come out from their hiding places. I was ready for almost anything. I’d take down any number of slimy tentacles or gigantic, drooling jaws. Just watch me. Except nothing appeared. If it hadn’t been for the need to get the pilot some proper medical attention as quickly as possible, I’d have been disappointed.
We weren’t the only ones travelling out of the city. By the time we reached its outer limits, we were in a convoy of several vehicles, each one no doubt containing people who hadn’t been able to make up their minds whether to stay or to go. Either that or they’d been hanging on to the last minute in the vain hope that what happened to Manchester was nothing more than a terrible dream.
From the back seat of the car in front of us, the white faces of two children pressed up against the back window, watching us as we trundled forward at a snail’s pace. I wondered at parents who would allow their children to stay in such a precarious and vulnerable situation, but I knew better than to voice my thoughts to Monroe. He didn’t react to the children at all; even when the younger lad plucked up the courage to wave, all Monroe did was grunt quietly.
I was starting to think that we’d make it without a problem when the convoy stopped for no apparent reason. I stiffened. There wasn’t any screaming and I couldn’t see or hear any signs of anything untoward. It didn’t make sense why we weren’t moving.
Monroe drummed his long fingers on the steering wheel then, in a fit of sudden impatience, he unclipped his seatbelt and got out of the car. Of course I followed.