“Could be more of them,” Jenna said, nodding towards the shapes. A man loped like a wolf. A woman seemed to flow across the road, trailing gossamer limbs that barely touched the ground.
“So where’s this man?” Jack asked. No one answered, no one moved. “Andrew!”
The wraith turned its head, and Andrew’s ghost seemed to be dreaming.
“I said where’s the man who can stop all this?”
“His name’s Hayden,” Andrew said, pointing along the road at a multi-storey car park. “And I left him there, hiding.”
“Let’s hope he listened to you,” Jack said. “If he tried to move on alone, he’ll probably be dead.”
As it turned out, he had not listened.
They climbed the concrete staircase, and Andrew showed them the Range Rover where he’d told the man to wait. It was empty, doors open. There were no signs of violence, but neither was there any sign of Hayden. Wherever he’d gone, and why, he had left them no message.
“Shit!” Sparky said. “So now what?”
“Now we look for him,” Jack said.
“Something spooked him,” Sparky said. “This place sure as shit spooks me.”
Jack nodded in agreement. The car park was half-filled with cars, all of them left here two years ago by people who’d all expected to return.
“So where would he have run if he was spooked?” Jenna asked.
“Up,” Jack said. “Further away from the street.”
“My thoughts exactly,” Sparky said. He slapped Jenna’s butt and ran back towards the staircase door.
“We’ll take the other staircase!” Jack called after him, and Sparky waved over his shoulder. Jenna followed him. She looked scared as she smiled at Jack, and he knew why, because he felt it himself.
The car park was built on a series of split levels with wide up and down ramps at either end. Jack had been in scores of places like this with his parents, and as a kid he’d loved them, and had even had a model car park at home in which he stored his large collection of toy cars. He didn’t love this one. The parked cars were testament to lives ruined or lost, and now it had become a vertical maze in which their one last hope might be hiding.
“Hurry!” he said to Rhali and Lucy-Anne. “Come on, we’ve got to hurry!” He barged through the door into the stairwell and started up, and then came to a sudden standstill. Rhali bumped into him.
“What?” she said, startled.
“The ramps,” Jack said. “Stupid of me! He could easily just slip down the car ramps while we’re trying to find him.”
“I’ll stay,” Rhali said. “I’ll wait on this level, and if I see him I’ll shout as loud as I can.”
“But what if—?” Jack began.
“I don’t think he’s a threat,” Andrew said. His voice was chilling. “He only wants to do what you want to do and stop the bomb.”
Jack didn’t like any of this, but could only nod in agreement. He watched Rhali walking back between the parked cars as the door swung closed, and he couldn’t help thinking that he would never see her again.
“This is so screwed,” Lucy-Anne said.
“Yeah. Tell me about it. Come on.”
Jack took the steps three at a time. Another staircase, another building, and he expected at any moment to be shot at or attacked, because it seemed that’s what his life had been since entering London. Nomad’s touch throbbed within him, manifested as that amazing, terrible red star, and it had made him the centre of things. None of them had wanted any of that. All of this had been forced upon them, and he felt a sudden rush of intense love and respect for his friends and the way they were handling everything. They could have walked away, but none of them had.
None of them would.
Four storeys, eight flights of stairs, and the stench of the stairwell brought an uncomfortable flash of familiarity—it stank of piss. Every car park staircase he’d ever been in seemed to smell the same, and for a disconcerting moment, before they emerged onto the car park’s open upper level, Jack thought perhaps everything was back to normal.
Then they emerged onto daylight, and awful reality came to the fore once more.
Two creatures from the north were attacking a car. They looked almost human apart from their limbs, which were black and shiny like a beetle’s. They were using them to score metal and pummel glass, and it looked as if they had been there for a while. The car was a mess. Jack thought they’d be inside within minutes, and whoever they were seeking would be finished.
“Hey!” Sparky called from across the car park, emerging from the stairwell on the other side. “Hey, uglies!”
“No, Sparky!” Jack shouted.
The creatures both jumped on the car and watched, back to back, limbs raised in front of them in a defensive gesture.
“Hayden,” Andrew said, and Jack had already seen the pale face at the car’s rear window.
Jack ran. Sparky’s shout had been brave but foolhardy; if they went after Sparky, he and Jenna had nothing to protect themselves with. This was all up to Jack.
He delved deep as he ran, but he already knew that these things were beyond his ken. They had evolved physically, a painful, shattering change that had left most of them half-mad from the continuing agonies, and raging. Even if he could find and touch the ability to do the same, he would not. He thought perhaps that darkest part of his universe—beyond the stars, way out past everything he knew and many talents he did not yet know— was the infinity of their pain, and he had no wish to go there at all.
But perhaps he could communicate with them. Along with their monstrousness came a high level of intelligence, and if he could appeal to that, maybe this would not have to end in more violence and death.
He paused a few steps from the car and nodded at Hayden, trying to communicate a sense of calm. The man looked terrified, and Jack could not blame him. The things resembled humans in form, but the resemblance stopped there. Their eyes were dark and shiny. Faces were slick, skin smooth and featureless. They exuded no personality, and looking at them was distinctly unsettling. But Jack did his best not to look away.
“The man in the car is precious,” Jack said. “He can stop something terrible from happening. You might know about the bomb, you might not. But I want him alive and safe. And I don’t want to have to fight you for him.”
One of the creatures hissed, the other raised its heavily clawed arms, and Jack turned his head and shouted, channelling the talent he had already used so devastatingly. He put a lot into it—this was no time for a subtle demonstration—and he felt power thrumming through him, setting him on fire. He liked it. But he berated himself, because relishing it was what had turned Reaper bad.
The reinforced concrete wall, topped with a heavy metal railing, shattered out into space, and four cars were forced out after the shattered rubble, bodies crunched, windows shattering, wheels screeching across the concrete floor. They tumbled from view and then impacted the ground below several seconds later. Even before the two creatures had recovered from their shock, Jack had moved closer to them. He was almost in touching distance.
They looked at him with wide eyes.
“Move away from the car,” he said. He was shaking with the remnants of the tremendous power, and he had to breathe deeply to cast it down.
One of the creatures laughed.
“Jack!” Rhali’s voice, and it was coming closer.