Текст книги "The Weight of Souls"

Автор книги: Bryony Pearce

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Текущая страница: 8 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

15
REMEMBERED AS AN IDIOT

A breeze lifted my hair from my ears as I did a quick scan of Princes Gardens. It was filled with gasping grey-tinged trees choking in the polluted London air. They weren’t dead enough to bother me.

Apart from Justin and myself, there was only an old guy slumped in the shade on a bench next to a building marked “The Goethe Institute”. His hat was pulled down low over his ears; who knew how long he’d been there.

Satisfied that the place was safe for me, I sat with my back against a tree and wriggled between its roots until I was comfortable.

Justin looked as if he wanted to lean on the tree himself but it had too much life-force to support him.

He stretched out on the grass. “I can’t even feel this.” He went to pluck a blade and his fingers came up empty. “It’s like lying on cardboard.”

He fidgeted and rolled until my glare pulled him up short. “Did it go down like those boys said?” I asked.

“That I was climbing scaffolding?” Justin rolled until he was staring at the cloud-pocked sky.

“Were you?”

His head lolled towards me, his expression such a blend of defiance and misery I knew what he was going to say.

“Yes.” He cast his elbow over his face. “I’ll always be the stupid waster who killed himself climbing wet scaffolding. That’s going to be all anyone remembers about my life. What a legacy.”

I shrugged, scraping my shoulder against bark. “At least you’ll be remembered.”

Justin jerked.

“I mean it.” I inhaled and the scent of shorn grass relaxed me. “Sometimes I have to look people up, find addresses, that sort of thing, and when I start asking questions no oneremembers the dead guy. It’s like he never lived. That must be hard to find out. For the ghost, I mean.”

Justin thumped the ground. No dirt puffed under his fist. “I’ll be remembered as an idiot.”

I shrugged. “If it helps, I would have remembered you as an idiot anyway.”

He inhaled sharply and I raised my hand. “Sorry, let’s not do this again. Can you talk about what happened now?”

Justin exhaled. “OK.” He continued to stare up through his crooked elbow. “It’s all blurry, like a bad dream.”

“That could be because of the trauma,” I shrugged. “Or maybe you haven’t really accepted what happened. Most of the dead that track me down have been that way for years. They’ve had time to get used to it, to dwell.” I scraped my scalp on tree bark as I shook my head. “Just tell me what you can.”

“I still don’t think I was murdered.”

There was nothing left to say. I glared and Justin’s lower lip disappeared under his teeth. “Fine, OK. I don’t really know where to start.”

I twitched and anger started to fill me again as if I was a waiting jug.

“No, listen, there’s stuff you don’t know. Background. It's important.”

Across the path the trees shadows lengthened as if the sun had jumped across the sky. I held my elbows and watched the movement closely. It stopped.

“Go on then,” I sighed. “Tell me everything.”

Justin rolled onto his stomach and rested his chin on his palm. For one tiny half-second with the scent of grass in my nose and the feel of the tree at my back, I forgot to hate the boy lying in front of me.

It didn’t seem so bad that he’d called me Godzilla, or that he was now one of the hounding dead. It felt like a normal moment with a boy from school, something I hadn’t had for years. Five years.

Then his dark eyes looked inward and he gave a sort of shrug. “It started on my first day. James made me play Truth or Dare. You told me to take the dare.” His eyes narrowed. “You had to have known how bad it would be.”

My jaw slackened. “How could I have known?”

His glare intensified. “You knew James. I didn’t.” He shook his head. “I had to make Mrs Pickard cry. On my first day I told her she smelled and made the whole class laugh. Dad went nuts.” His own jaw tightened. “James thought it was great.”

I nodded. “The Truth or Dare thing was a bit of a craze for a while.” I tried a smile that felt uncomfortably like a too-tight mask.

As Justin’s face hardened my breath stopped. His eyes suddenly seemed darker than the tentacular shadows cast by the tree branches. “You thought the game went away?” His voice was bitter as dark chocolate.

“Well, yes. It was banned,” I frowned. “Oz smoked that whole pack of cigarettes one break and had to go to hospital.”

Memories swirled like fudge in the recesses of my mind. That time was kind of a blur for me. Back then it was as if school had stopped being real, as if my life only happened when the dead forced me to dance for them.

“The game didn’t die.” Justin shook his head. “It went underground. It evolved.”

“You make it sound–”

“It isn’t really a game, Oh.” Justin was no longer looking at me. His eyelids seemed half closed, threaded by a network of tiny blue veins as he stared downwards at an ant scurrying through the grass. “It’s more like a way of life. If you want to play, if you want to be ‘cool’, you have to join the V club. V for Veritas. Truth.”

“James came up with that? It doesn't sound like his style.”

Justin shook his head. “The club isn't James’ baby. It's been around for a while. I think his stepbrother put him onto it. There’s even a motto: Qui audet vincit. Who dares wins.”

“Wait a minute, didn't Mr Barnes say that?”

Justin nodded. “I think the club has been around for longer than even James realises.”

“But Mr Barnes...”

Justin’s eyes flashed upwards. “Once you’ve done the initiation and joined the club, you’re in for life.”

“You think he’san old member? Don’t you think we would have heard something about it?”

Justin shook his head. “There’s no talking about it with outsiders, no telling what’s said in the confessional, that’s where we hear truths. There’s no discussing the dares. If anything goes wrong, there’s no admitting that you were doing something for V.”

“Pete’s in your stupid club, isn’t he?” I thought about my friend, how, just after our fight, he’d suddenly become popular.

Justin nodded.

“But how can you say you’re in the club for life? What happens when you all go to uni or whatever?”

Justin swung into a sitting position and crossed his legs. “Something was going to happen at the end of this year. James had a dare, something huge involving everyone. Something so big it would tie us together for life.”

I leaned forward. “Why don’t you just say no?”

Justin’s long fingers weaved in and out of his fists. “You don’t understand. When you’re there, with everyone watching, you follow the rules. You just do.”

“So take truth. After all this time there can’t be much they don’t know about you.”

Justin fidgeted. “The rules are a bit more complicated than that, mostly it’s easier to take the dare.” He twisted his tie between his fingers. “Anyway, what’s important is what happened Friday night, right?”

He dropped his tie and his hands lay on his lap like poisoned spiders.

I nodded. “Tell me.”

His fingers twitched, but didn’t rise. “You can probably guess, I was doing something for the club.”

“A dare.”

“I was hoping it was my last one.”

“It was.”

His hands curled into fists. “I had a plan. It should have got me out. But I had to do this one last big thing. I had to climb to the top of the scaffolding and walk along one of the pipes. It was only maybe fifty centimetres or so without a handhold.”

“If this is what the dares are like, I’m surprised no one’s died earlier.”

“The stuff we’ve been doing, it’s only been getting really dangerous recently.” He groaned. “I know how it sounds. It’s one reason I didn’t want to talk about it.” Justin looked away from me. “So now you know.”

“I need to know more. Did you go to the building site alone?”

“Dares have to be witnessed by at least three other people, and videoed. I went with–”

“James, Harley, Pete and Tamsin.”

“Right.” He hunched his back. “You saw us on the bus after we checked it out the first time.”

“Well, what happened when you went back?”

“We got to the building site, there was a bit of banter and then I went up.”

“You didn’t see anyone else?”

“It was deserted, I wouldn’t have done it otherwise.”

“So… you went up,” I prompted him.

His shoulders tensed as if he was still climbing. “I must’ve reached the top. I-I remember stepping out onto the scaffolding. It hadn’t looked so high from down on the ground. The others waved to me. Tamsin blew me a kiss. I waved back.”

“And you fell?”

“No. I was holding on tight.” His hands closed around a bar that wasn’t there. “I gripped the best I could with my trainers and edged towards the bit without the handhold. Maybe I should have taken my trainers off.” He glanced at his feet.

“Maybe.” I rubbed my eyes. “Then what?”

“I-I reached the bit with no handhold.”

“And you let go.”

“No! I could hear the wind below me. I could barely see Tammy. I stretched out as far as I could, so I wouldn’t have to be too long without holding on. But I didn’t let go of the bar behind me. I edged forward and my foot just slipped. It flew out from under me and I-I swung out. I was only holding on with one hand. I think I heard Tammy shout, but I’m not sure. Then I f-fell.”

I was silent for a moment. Justin’s cheeks were colourless and his hair was a black wing against his face.

I inhaled. “No one pushed you. No one distracted you.”

“No.” His voice was as colourless as his face. “See, I wasn’t murdered.”

I looked at my hand and then across at the barely twitching shadows. Across the park the old man had shifted position. I turned back to Justin. “You weremurdered. I wonder if…”

“Hey, do you know that guy?” Justin pointed. The old man had levered himself up and was ambling across the garden towards us.

“No,” I dismissed him. “He’s just leaving the park. You need to focus.”

“It’s just that he keeps looking at you and there’s something about him.”

I lifted my spine from the tree trunk. “He keeps looking at me?” I frowned. “It looks like I’m talking to myself, Hargreaves, I’m going to get odd looks.” Still, I shifted onto my heels. “How long’s he been looking at me?”

“I haven’t been paying him much attention, Oh.”

As the old man drew near I studied him. His trousers were frayed at the bottom and his great coat was warm for the weather. But he was old. Old people liked to keep warm, didn’t they?

He kept his eyes cast down. When he reached the tree nearest me his head rose. Our eyes met. He touched the brim of his hat with twisted fingers, nodded and went as if to walk on. “Kids.”

Hope lit Justin’s eyes like a sunrise. “You can see me?”

“Crap.” The old man’s face twisted and he lunged at me.

I dove sideways and his arm hissed through the tree trunk where I’d been sitting.

“Geezer, what’re you doing?” Justin scrambled to his feet. The ghost ignored him, focused completely on me.

“I can’t take another Mark right now,” I cried. The Darkness was already moving and if he touched me I’d be carrying two Marks, with no idea who had killed Justin.

The ghost lurched towards me, grinning hugely. “You can help me. It won’t take long.”

I tried to get to my feet but slipped on the grass. “Leave me alone.”

The old man bent over me. His hooked nose had a bead of moisture on it. It trembled above my face as he reached for my cheek with cracked fingers. I scrabbled backwards but he was faster than he looked.

Suddenly he grunted and flew sideways.

I blinked. Justin had tackled him and now he had both arms round his waist. “Run,” he shouted.

I leaped to my feet. “Justin–”

“Go.”

The old man was wriggling and swearing viciously.

“Meet me at my house. Do you know where it is?”

“Pete pointed it out once.” He renewed his grip on the great brown coat. “Go.”

I looked back once. The old guy had removed his hat. He was hitting Justin with it and tears were streaming down his face.

Bloody dead people.

16
THE HOUSE IS CURSED

When I got home the study was shut tight. The Book of Oh-Fahowever, was sitting on the dining room table. I bit my lip, but the temptation was too strong to ignore. Swiftly I grabbed it, stuffed it under my top and, with the pressure of the ancient leather on my skin, I tiptoed upstairs.

Once in my room I leaned against the door. There I stuck my tingling hand behind my back. It was too tempting to just keep looking at it, like picking a scab.

Under the bed the shadows pulsed. I slammed the lights on, all of them. A long time ago Mum had installed a bulb under my bed. Now there was no part of my room that wasn’t brightly lit.

I exhaled heavily. I had less than two weeks before the Darkness came for me and I had no idea what had really happened to Justin and who I should be Marking.

Swearing under my breath I crossed to the window. As I passed the dresser I automatically stroked my picture-board of Mum. My fingertips caressed a snippet of her favourite jumper, her old hair band, a silky piece of the skirt I had most liked her in. My fingers bumped over her turquoise beads and lingered on the three photos: one of her smiling over her shoulder, one where she looked sad and serious and hid her gloved hand behind her back, one of her holding a baby – me. In that one her eyes were half-closed and her expression unreadable, but her bare hands were curled around my back as if I was the most precious thing in the whole world and might break.

Her book pressed against my stomach. I tugged it free of my waistband and opened it with reverent fingers. I closed my eyes to bring her voice to mind then started to read.

Entry the fifth

My hand shakes as I write this, trembling so hard that I can barely make sense. The Professor paces outside and his demands have become increasingly urgent. Perhaps his gun is trained on me even now. Still, I cannot move without finishing this, my family needs to know what happened.

If only there was a way to beg my child’s forgiveness. Even if I make it home now, I do not deserve to look upon the faces of my family.

The sack of blood money at my feet is not compensation. How could I think it would ever be enough?

Perhaps I should let the Professor shoot me.

It began when I returned to the hole in the ground, a moment that already seems a lifetime ago.

Despite the queue of lantern bearers who had entered the tomb ahead of me, a preternatural darkness still covered every step below the sixth. Miserably I sought the Professor. The glare of the sun on his small round spectacles erased his eyes as he gestured me downwards.

On the fifth step I caught up with the man in front. Like lovers entering an icy sea we felt together with our toes. Step-by-step we descended and the tide of dark rose first to our thighs, then our chests. My bare legs prickled with cold then the darkness enveloped my head.

My lantern revealed walls decorated floor to ceiling with hieroglyphs. As I wondered what ancient curses surrounded us, we rounded a corner to find a large antechamber, riddled with tunnels like black mouths. In the centre the overseers were waiting to take the light.

“We’re setting up base there.” Sunbird indicated the lanterns already clustered by the far wall. “Stay out of the way until you’re needed.”

I followed the muted speech of my fellows, stumbling blindly towards the noise until I thumped into another of the men. I ignored his curse and wriggled into a space to try and meditate.

I should have fled.

There was a shout outside and I almost dropped the book. “Taylor Oh!”

I opened my window and leaned into the air. Justin was standing on the street, hands cupped round his mouth. “I can’t get in.”

A secret smile touched my lips.

Of course he couldn’t.

“I’ll come and get you.” As I passed the dresser I put the book down carefully and looked, not at Mum this time, but in the mirror. Something made me pick up my hairbrush. Swiftly I dragged it through my hair, shaking it out over my shoulders. Then I opened my bedroom door, sucked in a breath at the sight of the dimly-lit hallway and sped as stealthily as possible to the vestibule.

I opened the door and peered out. Justin stood at the top of the steps. “I tried to walk through the door, but it’s solid. Don’t tell me your front door’s cursed too.” He sounded grumpy and tired and I couldn’t help smiling as he tried to walk past. “Ow.” He rebounded onto the pavement and rubbed his shoulder. “I don't understand; there’s nothing there.”

I rubbed my palm on my jeans. “I’m not sure if this’ll work but we can try. Here, you’ll have to take my hand.” My lip curled as I held my arm out to him.

Justin looked at it. “You don’t mind?”

“It’s the only way you’re getting in.”

I braced myself for the familiar hateful jolt, but when Justin’s fingers wrapped around mine they just felt dry and cool; no electric ice.

I walked backwards, Justin walked gingerly forwards and he was in.

As he passed the front door he shuddered and dropped my hand. “What was that? It was horrible, like walking through jelly.”

I checked behind me. Dad’s door was still shut. “Actually, you were right,” I whispered. “The house is cursed – Mum did it. She found these hieroglyphs a few years ago. They used to put them on Egyptian tombs to stop the ghosts of the pharaohs’ servants from escaping. She figured if it stopped ghosts from getting out of a stone pyramid, it might stop them from getting into a stone house. They’re engraved right there, under the ivy.”

“So I’m the first ghost that’s been in here.” He sounded impressed.

I nodded. “For a while.” I gestured towards the stairs. “Come to my room, dead boy.”

“Taylor, is that you?”

Automatically I panicked and looked at Justin; but of course Dad wouldn’t see him.

The study opened and he rolled into view. He looked exhausted.

“Are you alright, Dad?”

“I'd be better if I hadn't had a call from the school today, asking why you've hardly been in class this week.”

I flushed and stammered, caught without an excuse.

“I told them you were ill.” He rubbed a big hand over his eyes. “At least I didn't have to lie.”

“I'm sorry.”

“The only thing I can think to do for you is find a cure, but...”

“What?” My arms prickled with terrified apprehension. Was he going to send me away after all?

“I'm failing you, Taylor, and I don't know how much longer we can go on like this.”

All I could do was repeat myself, but the apology sounded hollow even to me.

Dad sighed. “I need another sample. Give me your arm, please.”

“D-Dad.” My eyes flicked sideways. Justin had stepped towards the kitchen as if to give us privacy, but he was watching. “Can we do this later? I’m in the middle of something.”

“I need it now. Are you sick at the moment?”

I showed him my gloved hand.

“That’s… good.” He rolled the syringe between his fingers. “Come on then.” He waved me ahead of him into the study. “Our evening out was good for me, it cleared my head. I think I’m onto something.”

A sigh quivered on my lips as I passed the threshold and took in the mess of equipment on the desk. “You’ve said that before,” I reminded him.

“This time is different, there’s a definite change in your blood when you’re sick.” He frowned. “I’ve booked a session with the electron microscope at Kings, but I can’t get in for a couple of months. I think the change might even be at a mitochondrial level. That’s where your cells make energy. But I can’t see it clearly with this thing.” He gestured angrily at his microscope, the best money could buy outside a real lab.

“Then why do you need more blood?” I huddled over my arm. “Can’t I have a break? I’m sore.”

He turned his frown on me. “You’re right; your arm does need a rest. I’ll take a few mils from your leg. Take off your trousers.”

“Dad!” I looked at the door. Justin was staring into the room.

“Come on, Taylor, we haven’t got all night.”

“I don’t want to do this any more.”

He tapped his fingers on the wheel arch of his chair. “I know this is hard, Taylor, for both of us. But I’m close, I can feel it.”

Looking for something to distract him I thought of The Tale of Oh-Fathat he'd left in the dining room. “Why were you reading Mum’s book?”

Dad followed my gaze towards the door. “Obviously it’s only a story, but there’s a bit in it that’s interesting, perhaps a kernel of truth. Oh-Fa’s granddaughter writes that he drank something after he made the so-called deal. Maybe your ancestor ingested some infected blood when he was in the tomb.”

“Blood?” I frowned.

“If you swallow blood containing a viral vector that carries an oncogene, it can insert itself onto host DNA and disrupt normal genes.” Dad raised his eyebrows. “Whatever you choose to call it – curse or illness – what you have has to be genetic; a dominant gene on the x-chromosome with a marker that kicks in at puberty. If only I could work out how to find that viral vector...” he shook his head. “Well, it’s only a story.”

He pulled the wrapper from a sterile syringe and I stepped backwards.

“Taylor,” he sighed. “Will it help if I overlook the conversation I had with Mr Barnes this morning?”

I pressed my lips together. “I want to keep Mum’s book and see her notes.”

The creases in Dad’s face deepened. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. I put your Mum’s things away because I don’t want your hallucinations being fed with yet more stories.”

“But–”

“I’m not ready to give up on you yet. Let me have this sample and I won’t ask for any more for a while, you can have that break.”

“Fine.” I sighed.

“And you'll go back to school?”

I nodded, then paused with my hand over my belt.

“Taylor, I’m your father, just take them off.”

Justin backed into the hall. When I was sure he couldn’t see me I slid out of my jeans. Dad pointed at a stool and I brushed away a thin layer of dust before I lowered myself onto the seat. Then I looked away as Dad approached with the needle.

I held my breath as the point broke my skin and tried hard not to wince at the insistent tug of blood being taken from the vein.

“All done.” Dad pressed a pad of cotton wool over the needle and pulled it free. An ampoule sat on top of his desk, ruby in the light that shone through it.

I took over the pressure on the pad. “You really think you’re close?”

Dad considered the brimming vial. “If I can duplicate the effect I’ll be nearer to the cure. Now I’ve seen a difference between your blood samples I’m going and try infect a sample of ordinary blood – my blood. If I can do that, then we know it’s an illness and reversible.”

“It isn’t an infection, Dad. If it was you’d have caught it already.”

“Not if it’s passed directly from blood to blood.”

“Like AIDS you mean?” A shudder went through me and I grabbed my jeans from the floor. Quickly I pulled them on, feeling exposed and grubby.

“Taylor.” Dad reached for my ungloved hand and I dodged him.

“I’m tired, I’m going to bed.”

On the landing Justin moved into my peripheral vision. He followed me silently and I closed the door behind him.

“Don’t say anything,” I warned. I hurled myself onto my bed and pressed my face into the pillow until the heat in my cheeks was cooled by the smell of laundered cotton.