Текст книги "The Weight of Souls"
Автор книги: Bryony Pearce
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Текущая страница: 12 (всего у книги 17 страниц)
24
STILL GOT TIME
“So, how was it?” Justin was lounging on my bed when I got home.
“Really strange.” I dropped my bag and pushed his legs so I could sit down. “Everyone’s freaked out about what happened to you. And Tamsin was actually…”
“Nice?” Justin sat up.
“God no, but she wasn’t like before either.” I stretched and groaned as my shoulders cracked. Then I went still. “Hannah’s still not talking to me.”
Justin winced sympathetically. “I’m sorry, that sucks.”
“At least I don’t have to deal with all the bitchiness and I don’t have to lie to her about V.”
“See, silver linings everywhere.” Justin spread his arms and I couldn’t withhold a smile.
“Yes, this is just one big happy silver lining.”
My hand had been throbbing all day. I fingered the glove for a moment, then with trepidation, pulled it back to reveal my hand.
Justin leaned closer. “It’s darker.”
My pulse thumped as I nodded. The Mark was so black I could no longer see the faint outlines of the veins beneath my skin. I ran my palm over the top of it then covered it over once more.
“We’ve still got time,” I murmured
Justin’s fingertips hovered over mine. “If you believe that, Oh, why are your hands shaking?”
I dreamed again that night and woke up with my mother’s voice ringing in my ears and Justin’s arms around my shoulders.
“He’s hungry for the world,” I muttered.
“What does that mean?” Carefully, as if he thought I’d bite him, Justin smoothed my hair out of my eyes.
“I don’t know.” I shuddered and gripped his arm. “But if someone in the V club wasn’t involved in your death, I’ll be an appetiser.”
“What’s going on?” I clutched my Oyster Card, unwilling to commit to swiping it. The bus was packed with more than double the usual number of commuters.
The driver glared at me, obviously harassed and impatient to be moving. “Central Line’s down.”
I glanced at the door, wondering whether to jump back off again, but a crowd had gathered behind me, anxious to get to work. I’d have to shove my way through them and there could be ghosts anywhere. I hugged my chest and my pulse pounded. My hand felt as if it was bleeding, as though the Mark were a real injury, worsening with every hour. I had told Justin we had plenty of time but I didn’t believe it. I couldn’t take another Mark.
But was it safer to stay on the crowded bus, or try and get to school another way?
My breath shortened and a sharp pain in my chest made me drop my bag. I felt as if I was being buried alive, as if grains of sand filled my mouth and nose, and pressed down on suddenly aching limbs. I gasped for air.
“Get a move on.” Angry voices shouted from outside and the people began to press in on me. I couldn’t stay on the bus, it was too crowded: I’d suffocate.
Wobbling, I scooped up my bag and backed out of the vehicle, earning myself an angry tut from the driver and furious grunts from the commuters I shoved aside in my rush to escape.
I could barely see, but I had to watch every face, I had to see who wasn’t carrying a briefcase when they ought to be, who was reaching for me through the mass of heaving shoulders.
It was too much, how could I check every single face?
A pointed heel came down on my foot and I cried out. Tears worsened the situation even more. Finally I burst through the crowd and yanked my bag out behind me. It came free with a suddenness that knocked me off my feet, but I still scrabbled backwards in the pavement grime, desperate to be away from the crowd and find clear air.
But the air didn’t clear, my chest continued to thump with the panicked hammer of my heart and I couldn’t take a breath without feeling as if I was stabbing myself in the lungs. The world started to go grey, but I couldn’t let it. I had to keep watching, had to keep away from the ghosts.
I gripped my chest, as if that would free me from the weight that bore down on me. It didn’t help. Was I having a heart attack? What happened if I died and I was still carrying a Mark?
“Taylor, what’s going on?” The voice was familiar and I focused on it gratefully. I couldn’t answer. All I could do was keep trying to breathe and forcing my heart to keep beating.
“I think I’ve seen this before, OK, my aunt used to do this.”
I shook my head, still unable to see past the grey veil that had covered the world. “My heart,” I rasped.
“You’re having a panic attack, Tay. You have to keep breathing.”
“Trying,” I gasped.
“You need a paper bag or something. But I can’t get you anything, you have to do this yourself.”
“Too many people.” I was blind and I could be surrounded by ghosts with no way to know and no way to run. My pulse fluttered like a hummingbird in flight and in the distance a dog barked angrily.
“Tay, listen to me, I’m not going to let anything happen to you. There aren’t any ghosts right now, I’m watching. You just have to concentrate on breathing.”
“J-Justin?” I inhaled desperately. It had to be him; he was the only one who knew about the ghosts.
“It’s me. Come on, Tay, in and out, in and out.” He grabbed my hand and squeezed it as he took over responsibility for making me breathe. He was going to keep the ghosts away. I was safe.
Gradually my pulse slowed and my heart started to beat more ponderously. As the sand receded from my mouth and nose, my vision cleared and I saw him watching me with concerned eyes.
“Freak.”
As the world came back into focus I saw that I was blocking part of the path, businessmen were stepping over me to get to the bus queue. Muttered insults propelled me to my feet. I grabbed my bag and staggered to a bench. Justin followed, his eyes darting, taking seriously his promise to keep the ghosts at bay.
I sagged onto the sun-warmed slats. “What are you doing here?” I rubbed my eyes, ashamed that he’d seen my breakdown.
Justin took one final look around then sat beside me. “I’ve been walking you to school, alright. Just, you know, making sure you were OK. Keeping the others back.”
I blinked. “Others?”
He nodded. “There’ve been one or two like me. I ran them off.”
“I didn’t know.”
“I didn’t want you to.”
We sat side by side in the sunshine.
“I guess I’d better get to school. I’ll miss first period even if I walk fast.” I hoisted my bag on my shoulder. “Are you coming with?”
Justin grinned and his hair caught the light, like black gold. “I’ll take you to the gates.”
As we walked, the final entry in Oh-Fa’s journal kept pace with us. I heard it in a blend of Justin’s voice and my mother’s and knew for certain that it would not be much longer before I had my answers.
It is over.
I am alone in the camp with no map to show me the way back to civilisation. I will finish this journal. Then I will pack my treasure with what provisions I can and attempt to make it home. Although I do not deserve to see my daughter I will owe her an explanation when the time comes.
As I finished my last journal entry the Professor entered the tent and forced me outside.
“Murderer.” I spoke with fervour.
The Professor gestured with the gun. “I don’t care about that. As for you, die out here, or take your chances in there. And don’t even think about turning on me, unless you think you can find the way back to civilisation alone.”
Left with no choice I reluctantly took the gun. Then, half in a daze, I pressed my right palm to the back of the Professor’s hand. An unnatural effervescence seethed beneath my skin and when I pulled my hand free, the Mark imprinted by the Sunbird’s touch was gone. Now it lay over the Professor’s tendons like a spider pressed in a natural scientist’s book.
The Professor gestured impatiently. “Get on with it.”
Fearfully I looked into the shadow coating the fourth step. Then I frowned at the mathematics of the situation; hadn’t I been able to see five steps before?
And now there were only three. The shadows were advancing.
The Professor, determined to send me into the tomb, shoved me from behind. I wriggled sideways and pointed to draw his attention to the Darkness that now spilled into the camp.
Titus barked. He scampered towards the living shadow that blotted out a body length of sand and stopped at its edge, claws working furiously to keep him out of the boundary. He snarled continuously, a low sound of menace, and the Professor retreated. “What is it?”
I shook my head and watched the Darkness follow the Professor’s movement.
For his part the Professor ran for his tent. “Make it stop.” At his feet blackness reared like smoke, thicker and darker than the smog I had seen on my journey through London.
“Shoot it!” the Professor’s scream rent the air.
I stood petrified as the Darkness struck. Titus howled and the Professor shrieked once then disappeared.
After a while the Darkness receded back into the tomb. The murderous Professor had been taken to Anubis, just as the beast had promised.
And now I understand my mission; the path my life will take.
Even now I see a shadowy figure approaching across the sand. Alone in this great desert he cannot possibly reside among the living. I hope he will at least lead me back to Giza.
I am so very sorry my children. Please forgive me.
25
THE WHEEL KEEPS SPINNING
We stood outside the church, the last to arrive.
“Are you sure you want to do this?”Justin's anxiety was making him restless. “No.” I wrapped my arms around my chest as if I could protect myself from what was to come. “After that last dare, James could set anything. What if I can't do it?”
Justin said nothing.
“Your last dare killed you. My initiation nearly killed me. This isn't a good idea.”
He looked up at the stained glass window as if it held an answer and I rubbed my hand.
“I don't have a choice, do I?” I sighed and started forward.
“There has to be another way.” Justin caught my arm. “Perhaps we could get hold of my police records or something.”
I raised my eyebrows. “First of all, do I look like Nancy Drew? And second, if it was possible for me to hack into Scotland Yard, or break in or whatever, I wouldn't find anything.” I grimaced. “If your murderer wasn't going to get away with it, your touch wouldn't have transferred a Mark.”
Justin held his hand to his face, as if he'd see something on it. “I'm sorry.” He looked at me from the corner of his eye. “I didn't know. I would never have touched you otherwise.”
I nodded and stood with one foot on the church steps. “Thanks for saying that and I know you didn't even know you were dead. But you would have come for me eventually. In the end they all do.”
Justin opened his mouth and I stepped forward. “Come on, let's get this over with.”
The room was laid out as before, with a large circle of chairs overseen by the Icarus poster. Only instead of a chair in the centre of the ring, there was a bicycle wheel mounted on an easel with a large circle of wood behind. The wooden circle had each of our photos on and the wheel had a pointer attached.
I stared at it, searching for the missing image: Justin’s. Of course it wouldn’t be there. My own face had probably taken his place.
James’ picture was an old one; in it he was slimmer and his skin was bare of tattoos. The arrogant facial expression however, was the same. The image had a big pair of scarlet wings stuck on top with blu-tack. I figured that meant he was exempt from the wheel: the challenger.
“Nice of you to join us, Oh. Are you going to stand there all night?” James sneered.
The empty chair was between Pete and a boy I recognised from the year below. Alan fidgeted uncomfortably as I slipped into the circle and sat next to him. I shot him a glare, remembering the feel of sand in my clothes. It was obvious what he had done to get into the club. Justin took up a position at my back just as, with a death’s head grin, James rose from his seat and put one hand on the black tyre. His eyes met mine as he whipped the wheel downwards.
I swallowed. Half of me; the sensible half, wanted the wheel to keep spinning, to land on any of the other fifteen smiling faces. The other part clenched my blackened hand and prayed for it to stop with the pointer covering my own image.
As the wheel spun, Justin stepped from behind my chair. Once inside the circle he raised his eyebrows. Feeling sick as a dog, I gave the smallest possible nod and he waited next to the wheel, like a compère, for the spinning to slow.
Tension thickened the air as the wheel started to clack less and less quickly and faces around the ring tensed and paled. I could hear Alan breathing through his nose, hard on the inhale, as if he couldn’t get enough air.
I glanced around. Even Harley was leaning forward. His curls were a greasy tangle around his eyes as he waited for the outcome with gritted teeth.
Yet Pete seemed fairly relaxed. He sat on my left, arms dangling by his sides, legs crossed at the ankle. Then, there it was; the little muscle on his jaw that twitched when he was stressed. He was pretending not to care, but he did. No one wanted the wheel to land on them, not even Pete.
Today, they didn’t have to worry.
Now I could see the individual spokes as the wheel turned. It wouldn’t be long. Finally the wheel was barely moving. It was coming to a halt, stopping a full half turn away from my image.
The little pointer brushed Alan’s cheerful face and he winced as if it had actually touched his skin. But it was still moving on past Harley whose exhalation made his curls shiver, past Tamsin who blinked and dabbed at her mascara, past a younger girl called Ella who sagged into her chair, past Pete. No, not past Pete. It was going to stop on his picture. I couldn’t help myself, I turned with everyone else to look at him, see how he was taking it. James raised his arm, but then…
Then Justin gripped the wheel.
Sweat stood out on his forehead as if the tyre was resisting him. He only had to get it going again, just enough to move it past three more pictures.
My breath stopped as the wheel moved fractionally.
Pete groaned audibly as it moved past him, turning on, past one then two, images. Mine was next.
Then James reached out and touched the easel and Justin’s hands slipped through the tyre as if it had turned to air. He could no longer touch it.
No.
My eyes widened as I stared at the wheel, willing it to keep moving. It trembled and then, thank God, momentum moved it a tiny bit more and the pointer sat directly over my face.
I was going to be challenged after all.
Pete frowned. “She’s only just done a dare.” He leaned back in his chair, acting as if he didn’t really care. “Should we spin again?”
A chorus of negatives filled the space; voices tense with the fear that their reprieve might be snatched away.
“It’s alright, Pete.” I smiled tightly. “It can’t be worse than the last one and I managed that OK, didn’t I?”
Pete’s eyes skidded from mine. “ Dyingto be popular, are we?” He shrugged and rose from his chair. “Your funeral.” He leaned against the wall again.
I swallowed and turned to face James.
“Now we’ve got thatout of the way…” James smirked and his hair glittered bronze in a shaft of dusty light. “Time for the challenge, Oh.”
I nodded.
“Come on then. On your feet.”
“Up, up, up.” The refrain propelled me onto my toes. The temptation to take Justin’s hand was so great I had to fold my arms.
“You know the rules now.” James’ voice was bloated with satisfaction. “I set the challenge but you can double dareif you want to send it back my way. If you do you have to double up, that is make the dare twice as hard, according to the moderators Harley and Tamsin here.” He gestured and the light falling on his wrist made a shadow like a snake moving over the floor. “If you can’t make the challenge doubly hard, it goes back to you. If I turn down the double dare, someone else is allowed to take it on, for points. If you would rather take a truth than the dare, you can enter the confessional.” His smile widened like a sharks. “This week in the confessional we’ll be testing the truth about your personality: how much pain can you stand? Of course, you can choose to swap your place in the confessional with someone else, your best friend in the group, the guy who proposed you. So what’s it going to be, Oh? Truth or dare?”
“Just to clarify,” I rasped. “I can go into the confessional and you’ll hurt me until I can’t stand it any more. Or I can make Pete go inside instead, which makes me look like a bitch and means Pete’ll probably do the same to me next time he’s challenged. Or I can take your dare, but I don’t know what it is yet?”
“That’s right.” James nodded. “Fun, isn’t it?”
“But I can double dare you?”
“Only if you can double up and not make the dare impossible.”
“And if I win the dare I get to set the challenge next time?”
“That’s right.”
“And if I refuse the dare altogether?”
James glanced at Tamsin for a second. Her crimson lips curled. “Remember Derek?”
My mouth went dry. “But what if I lose the dare, if I just can’t do it?” That was the only thing I wasn’t clear about.
“Why, nothing,” she answered.
“Nothing?”
“Nothing,” James parroted. “If you genuinely try but still fail the dare, you go back on the wheel and I get to set another challenge next week.
“That’s it?” I wrinkled my nose.
James leaned forward. “So what’ll it be? Truth or dare?”
I met his gaze with a steely one of my own. “Dare.”
Excitement made James literally dance on the spot. “Everyone listening? Here’s the dare for this week. Remember what Hargreaves had to do the other week, and how he failed? Well that dare is still up. Oh, you have to go to the building site where he died, climb the scaffolding and walk across the part that hasn’t got a handrail.”
Gasps rent the air as the shock hit the rest of the V club. Justin literally growled and as I turned he launched past me, fists swinging. His right arm powered through James’ cheek and came out the side of his head without moving a single carefully styled hair.
He landed on his side, spitting and furious.
“You can’t be serious?” Pete rubbed his stubble-specked head.
I met James’ smug gaze and blinked. My breath sat in my chest like an undigested wad. “Are you allowed to set a challenge that isn’t possible?”
“Moderators?” James glanced over at Tamsin and Harley.
Slowly Tamsin nodded, but her face was now white. “W-we already decided it was possible.”
Pete leaped back into the circle. “Come on, there’ll be security now. Maybe even police. If we get caught they’ll look harder at Justin’s death.”
James shook his head. “We have friends in high places, Petrol Pete, remember? The Met won’t be looking into the V club.”
“Fine, but wake up, Justin died. Clearlyit isn’t possible.”
Harley’s lips twisted under his acne scars. “I dunno, dude, it should be do-able. Justin was just unlucky.”
“Unlucky?” This time Justin hurled himself at Harley, grabbing for his lapels. In the end he had to settle for screaming into his ear. “You dick, I’m dead. You call that unlucky?”
Tamsin sniffed. “Pete has a point, Justin did prove it impossible.”
I forced myself to breathe past the obstruction in my throat. This dare was beyond crazy. The V club was out of control. But now I had a way to get the challenge on my own terms.
“I’ll do it.” I silenced the objections with a stab of my gloved hand. “But on one condition: if I make it, I get to set a challenge.”
“Yeah, yeah, that’s how it works.” James waved airily.
“No, I get to set my challenge straight after. No waiting a week. I get to set a truth or dare right after I do this thing.”
James sucked air in through his teeth. “Haven’t we bent enough rules for you?”
I shrugged. “The moderators said the challenge was impossible, didn’t they? So either you agree to bend that rule for me, or I don’t have to do the dare and you lose your chance to set a challenge.”
I heard Tamsin’s inhalation from where I stood. Pete shook his head and stepped backwards, leaving me to my insanity. Only Justin rolled to his feet.
“Do notdo this, Tay.” His earnest face was centimetres from mine. “There has to be another way, I just haven’t thought of it yet. Maybe I can haunt James until he cracks, or hang around these guys until someone talks about what happened.” He looked hopeful, but I shook my head slightly and showed him my hand.
“It could take forever,” I murmured into my gloved palm.
“What was that, Oh?” James jerked forward, but I stepped back.
“Just wondering what your decision was.” Ifyou succeed, you can set your own right after.”