Текст книги "The Knife of Never Letting Go"

Автор книги: Patrick Ness

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Текущая страница: 5 (всего у книги 23 страниц)

He’s on us in three steps. Before I can even try and run, he’s coming at me with his hands out, grabbing my neck, smashing me back against a tree.

“You little FILTH!” he screams and presses his thumbs into my throat. I scrabble at his arms, trying to slash at him with the knife, but my rucksack has fallen and the strap has pinned my arm back against the tree so he can pretty much go on strangling me for as long as it takes.

His face is a nightmare, a horrible thing I’m not gonna stop seeing even if I ever get outta this. The crocs took his left ear and a long strip of flesh with it going right down his left cheek. You can see his teeth through the gash and it’s causing his left eye to bulge forward like his head’s been caught in mid-explosion. There are other gashes on his chin and neck and his clothes are torn and there’s blood practically everywhere and I can even see a croc tooth sticking out of a fleshy tear on his shoulder.

I’m choking for breath but not getting any at all and you can’t believe how much it hurts and the world’s gone spinning and my brain’s going funny and I have this stupid little thought that Aaron didn’t survive the croc attack after all, that he died but he’s so pissed off at me that dying didn’t stop him from coming here to kill me anyway.

“WHAT ARE YOU SMILING AT?” he screams, little bits of blood and spit and flesh spraying onto my face. He squeezes my neck harder and I can feel myself throwing up but there’s nowhere for it to go and I can’t breathe and all the lights and colours are flowing together and I’m dying and I’m going to die.

“AAH!” Aaron suddenly jerks back, letting me go. I drop to the ground and throw up all over everywhere and take in a huge gasping breath that makes me cough in a way like I’m never gonna stop. I look up and see Manchee’s snout wrapped around Aaron’s calf, biting it for all he’s worth.

Good dog.

Aaron slams Manchee sideways with an arm, sending him flying into the bushes. I hear a thump and a yelp and a “Todd?”

Aaron whirls around to me again and I just can’t stop looking at his face, at the gashes everywhere that no one could have survived, no one, it’s not possible.

Maybe he really is dead.

“Where’s the sign?” he says, his torn expression changing right quick and looking around in a sudden panic.

The sign?

The–

The girl.

I look, too. She’s gone.

Aaron whirls again, this way, that, and then I see him hearing it the same time I do, hearing the rustle and snap as she runs, hearing the silence as it flows away from us, and without another look at me, he takes off after her and he’s gone.

And just like that, I’m alone.

Just like that, like I have nothing to do with anything here.

What a stupid day this has been.

“Todd?” Manchee comes limping outta the bushes.

“I’m okay, buddy,” I try to say and get some of it out despite the coughing, even tho it ain’t true. “I’m okay.”

I try to keep breathing thru the coughs, forehead on the ground, dribbling spit and barf everywhere.

I keep breathing and these thoughts start coming. They come all uninvited, don’t they?

Cuz maybe that could be it, couldn’t it? Maybe it could be over, simple as that. The girl’s obviously what Aaron wants, whatever he means by “the sign”, right? The girl’s obviously what the town wants, what with all the ruckus over the quiet in my Noise. And so if Aaron can have her and the town can have her, then that could be the end of it, right? They could have what they want and leave me alone and I could go back and everything could be like it was before and, yeah, it would probably be no good for the girl but it might save Ben and Cillian.

It might save me.

I’m just thinking it, all right? The thoughts rush in, that’s all.

Thoughts that this could be over as soon as it started.

“Over,” Manchee murmurs.

And then I hear the terrible, terrible scream that of course is the girl getting caught and that’s the choice made, ain’t it?

The next scream comes a second later but I’m already on my feet without even really thinking it, slipping off my rucksack, leaning a bit, coughing still, reaching for more breath, but the knife in my hand and running.

They’re easy to follow. Aaron’s torn thru the bushes like a bullock and his Noise is throwing up a roar and always, always, always there’s the silence of the girl, even behind her screams, which somehow makes it even harder to hear. I run the best I can after them, Manchee on my heels, and it ain’t more than half a minute before we’re there with genius me having no idea what to do now I’ve got here. Aaron’s chased her into a bit of water about ankle-deep and got her back up against a tree. He’s got her wrists in his hands but she’s fighting him, fighting and kicking for all she’s worth, but her face is a thing so scared I can barely get my words out.

“Leave her alone,” my voice rasps but no one hears me. Aaron’s Noise is blazing so loud I’m not sure he’d hear me even if I yelled. THE HOLY SACRAMENT and THE SIGN FROM GOD and THE PATH OF THE SAINT and pictures of the girl in a church, pictures of the girl drinking the wine and eating the host, pictures of the girl as an angel.

The girl as a sacrifice.

Aaron gets both of her wrists in one of his fists, fumbles off the cord belt of his robe, and starts tying her hands together with it. The girl kicks him hard where Manchee bit him and he hits her across the face with the back of his hand.

“Leave her alone,” I say again, trying to make my voice louder.

“Alone!” Manchee barks, still limping but still ferocious. What a ruddy good dog.

I step forward. Aaron’s back’s to me, like he don’t even care I’m here, like he don’t even think of me as a threat.

“Let her go,” I try and shout but it just makes me cough some more. Still nothing, tho. Still nothing from Aaron or anyone.

I’m gonna have to do it. I’m gonna have to do it. Oh man oh man oh man I’m gonna have to do it.

I’m gonna have to kill him.

I raise the knife.

I’ve raised the knife.

Aaron turns, not even fast like, just turns like someone’s called his name. He sees me standing there, knife in the air, not moving like the goddam coward idiot I am, and he smiles and boy I just can’t say how awful a smile looks on that torn-up face.

“Yer Noise reveals you, young Todd,” he says, letting go of the girl, who’s so tied up and beaten now she don’t even try to run. Aaron takes a step towards me.

I take a step back (shut up, please just shut up).

“The Mayor will be disappointed to hear about your untimely departure from the earthly plain, boy,” Aaron says, taking another step. I take another step, too, the knife in the air like it’s of no use at all.

“But God has no use for a coward,” Aaron says, “does he, boy?”

Quick as a snake, his left arm knocks into my right, sending the knife flying out of my hand. He hits me in the face with the flat of his right hand, knocking me back down into the water and I feel his knees land on my chest and his hands pressing down on my throat to finish the job but this time my face is underwater so it’s going to be a lot faster.

I struggle but I’ve lost. I’ve lost. I had my chance and I’ve lost and I deserve this and I’m fighting but I’m not nearly as strong as I was before and I can feel the end coming. I can feel me giving up.

I’m lost.

Lost.

And then, in the water, my hand finds a rock.

BOOM! I bring it up and hit him on the side of the head before I can think about it.

BOOM! I do it again.

BOOM! And again.

I feel him slide off me and I lift my head, choking on water and air, but I sit up and raise the rock again to hit him but he’s laying down in the water, face half-in, half-out, his teeth smiling up at me thru the gash in his cheek. I scrabble back from him, coughing and spluttering, but he stays there, sinking a little, not moving.

I feel like my throat is broken but I throw up some water and can breathe a little better.

“Todd? Todd? Todd?” Manchee says, coming up to me, all licky and barky like a little puppy. I scratch him twixt the ears cuz I can’t say nothing yet.

And then we both feel the silence and look up and there’s the girl standing over us, her hands still tied.

Holding the knife in her fingers.

I sit frozen for a second and Manchee starts to growl but then I realize. I take a few more breaths and then I reach up and take the knife from her fingers and cut the cord Aaron bound her wrists with. It drops away and she rubs where it was tied, still staring at me, still not saying nothing.

She knows. She knows I couldn’t do it.

Goddam you, I think to myself. Goddam you.

She looks at the knife. She looks over at Aaron, lying down in the water.

He’s still breathing. He gurgles water with every breath, but he’s still breathing.

I grip the knife. The girl looks at me, at the knife, at Aaron, at me again.

Is she telling me? Is she telling me to do it?

He’s lying there, undefended, probably eventually drowning.

And I have a knife.

I get to my feet, fall down from dizziness, and get to my feet again. I step towards him. I raise my knife. Again.

The girl takes in a breath and I can feel her holding it.

Manchee says, “Todd?”

And I have my knife raised over Aaron. One more time, I’ve got my chance. One more time, I’ve got my knife raised.

I could do it. No one on New World would blame me. It’d be my right.

I could just do it.

But a knife ain’t just a thing, is it? It’s a choice, it’s something you do. A knife says yes or no, cut or not, die or don’t. A knife takes a decision out of your hand and puts it in the world and it never goes back again.

Aaron’s gonna die. His face is ripped, his head is bashed, he’s sinking into shallow water without ever waking up. He tried to kill me, he wanted to kill the girl, he’s responsible for the ruckus in town, he’s gotta be the one who sent the Mayor to the farm and cuz of that he’s responsible for Ben and Cillian. He deserves to die. He deserves it.

And I can’t bring the knife down to finish the job.

Who am I?

I am Todd Hewitt.

I am the biggest, effing waste of nothing known to man.

I can’t do it.

Goddam you, I think to myself again.

“Come on,” I say to the girl. “We have to get outta here.”

At first I don’t think she’s gonna come. There’s no reason for her to, no reason for me to ask her, but when I say to her, “Come on,” a second time more urgently and gesture with my hand, she follows me, follows Manchee, and that’s how it is, that’s what we do, who knows if it’s right, but that’s what we do.

Night’s well and truly fallen. The swamp seems even thicker here, as black as anything. We rush on back a ways to get my rucksack and then around and a little bit further away in the dark to get some distance between us and Aaron’s body (please let it be a body). We clamber round trees and over roots, getting deeper into the swamp. When we get to a small clearing where there’s a bit of flat land and a break in the trees, I stop us.

I’m still holding the knife. It rests there in my hand, shining at me like blame itself, like the word coward flashing again and again. It catches the light of both moons and my God it’s a powerful thing. A powerful thing, like I’d have to agree to be a part of it rather than it being a part of me.

I reach behind me and put it in the sheath between my back and the rucksack where at least I won’t have to see it.

I take the rucksack off and fish thru it for a torch.

“Do you know how to use one of these?” I ask the girl, switching it on and off a coupla times.

She just looks at me, as ever.

“Never mind,” I say.

My throat still hurts, my face still hurts, my chest still hurts, my Noise keeps pounding me with visions of bad news, of how good a fight Ben and Cillian managed to put up at the farm, of how long it’ll take Mr Prentiss Jr to find out where I’ve gone, of how long it’ll take him to be on his way after me, after us (not long at all, if he ain’t already), so who ruddy cares if she knows how to use a torch. Of course she don’t.

I get the book out of the rucksack, using the torch for a light. I open up to the map again and I follow Ben’s arrows from our farm down the river and thru the swamp and then outta the swamp as it turns back into river.

It’s not hard to find yer way outta the swamp. Out on the horizon beyond it, you can always see three mountains, one close and two farther away but next to each other. The river on Ben’s map goes twixt the closer one and the two farther away ones and so all we gotta do is to keep heading towards that space in the middle and we should find the river again and follow it. Follow it to where the arrows keep going.

Keep going to another settlement.

There it is. Right there at the bottom of the page where the map ends.

A whole other place.

As if I don’t have enough new stuff to think about.

I look up at the girl, still staring at me, maybe not even blinking. I shine the torch at her face. She winces and turns away.

“Where’d you come from?” I ask. “Is it here?”

I point the torch down at the map and put my finger on the other town. The girl don’t move so I wave her over. She still don’t move so I sigh and pick up the book and take it over to her and shine the torch on the page.

“I,” I point to myself, “am from here.” I point to our farm north of Prentisstown on the map. “This,” I wave my arms around to show the swamp, “is here.” I point at the swamp. “We need to go here,” I point at the other town. Ben’s written the other town’s name underneath, but – well, whatever. “Is this where yer from?” I point to her, point to the other town, point to her again. “Are you from here?”

She looks at the map but other than that, nothing.

I sigh in frustrayshun and step away from her. It’s uncomfortable being so close. “Well, I sure hope so,” I say, glancing back at the map. “Cuz that’s where we’re going.”

“Todd,” Manchee barks. I look up. The girl’s started to wander around in circles in the clearing, looking at stuff like it means something to her.

“What’re you doing?” I ask.

She looks at me, at the torch in my hand and she points thru some trees.

“What?” I say. “We don’t have time–”

She points thru the trees again and starts walking there.

“Hey!” I say. “Hey!”

I guess I have to follow.

“We gotta stick to the map!” I duck under branches to follow her, the rucksack getting caught left and right. “Hey! Wait up!”

I stumble on, Manchee behind me, the torch not much good against every ruddy little branch and root and puddle in a great big swamp. I keep having to drop my head and tear the rucksack free of stuff so I can barely look ahead enough to follow her. I see her standing by a fallen, burnt-looking tree, waiting for me, watching me come.

“What’re you doing?” I say, finally catching up with her. “Where’re you–”

And then I see.

The tree is burnt, freshly burnt and freshly knocked over, too, the unburnt splinters clean and white like new wood. And there are a buncha trees just like it, a whole line of ’em, in fact, on either side of a great ditch gouged outta the swamp, now filled with water but piled-up dirt and burnt plants all around it show that’s it gotta be a new thing, like someone came thru here and dug it up in one fiery swoop.

“What happened?” I swing the torch along it. “What did this?”

She just looks off to the left, where the ditch disappears into darkness. I shine the torch down that way but it’s not strong enough to see what’s down there. Tho it feels like something’s there.

The girl takes off into the darkness towards whatever it might be.

“Where’re you going?” I ask, not expecting an answer and not getting any. Manchee gets twixt me and the girl, like he’s following her now, instead of me, and off they go in the dark. I keep my distance but I follow, too. The silence still flows from her, still bothers me, like it’s ready to swallow up the whole world and me with it.

I keep the torch flashing over every possible square inch of water. Crocs don’t usually come this far into the swamp but that’s only usually, plus there’s red snakes that’re poisonous and water weasels that bite and it just don’t feel like luck is bothering with any of us today so if something can go wrong it’s probably gonna.

We’re getting closer and I shine the torch down to where we’re heading and something starts glinting back, something that ain’t tree or bush or animal or water.

Something metal. Something big and metal.

“What’s that?” I say.

We get closer and at first I think it’s just a big fissionbike and I wonder what kind of idiot would try and ride a fissionbike in a swamp cuz you can barely get ’em to work over flattened dirt roads much less water and roots.

But it ain’t a fissionbike.

“Hold up.”

The girl stops.

Whaddya know? The girl stops.

“So you can understand me, then?”

But nothing, as ever nothing.

“Well, hold up for a sec,” I say cuz a thought’s coming. We’re still a bit away from it but I keep flicking the torch over the metal. And back over the straight line that the ditch makes. And over the metal again. And over all the burnt stuff on either side of the ditch. And a thought keeps coming.

The girl stops waiting and heads off towards the metal and I follow. We have to go round a big burnt log, still lazily smoking in one or two spots, to get to the thing and when we do it’s much bigger than the biggest fissionbike and even then it looks like it’s only part of an even bigger something than that. It’s crumpled and burnt in most places and even tho I don’t know what it looked like before it crumpled and burned, it’s obviously mostly wreckage.

And it’s obviously wreckage of a ship.

An air ship. Maybe even a space ship.

“Is this yers?” I ask, shining the torch at the girl. She don’t say nothing, as usual, but she don’t say it in a way that could be agreement. “Did you crash here?”

I shine the torch up and down her body, up and down her clothes, which are a bit different than what I’m used to, sure, but not so different that they couldn’t have belonged to me once upon a time.

“Where’d you come from?” I say.

But of course she don’t say nothing and just looks off to a place further into the darkness, crosses her arms and starts heading off there. I don’t follow this time. I keep looking at the ship. That’s what it’s gotta be. I mean, look at it. A lot of it’s smashed beyond recognishun but you can still see something that might be a hull, might be an engine, even something that might have been a window.

The first homes in Prentisstown, see, were made from the ships the original settlers landed in. Sure, wood and log homes got built after, but Ben says the first thing you do when you land is build immediate shelter and immediate shelter comes from the first supplies to hand. The church and the petrol stayshun back in town are still partly made outta metal hulls and holds and rooms and such. And tho this heap of wreckage is pretty pounded, if you look at it right, it might be an old Prentisstown house that fell right outta the sky. Right outta the sky on fire.

“Todd!” Manchee barks from somewhere outta sight. “Todd!”

I go running round to where the girl disappeared, round the wreckage to a bit that seems less smashed up. As I run past, I can even see a door that’s been opened out the side of one wall of metal a little way up and there’s even a light on inside.

“Todd!” Manchee barks and I shine the torch over to where he’s barking, standing next to the girl. She’s just standing there looking down at something and so I shine the torch and see that she’s standing by two long piles of clothes.

Which are actually two bodies, ain’t they?

I walk over, shining the torch down. There’s a man, his clothes and body pretty much completely burnt away from the chest down. His face has burns, too, but not enough to disguise that he was a man. He has a wound on his forehead that woulda killed him even if the burns hadn’t but it don’t matter, does it, cuz he’s dead either way. Dead and lying here in a swamp.

I flash the torch over and he’s lying next to a woman, ain’t he?

I hold my breath.

It’s the first woman I ever seen in the flesh. And it’s the same as the girl. I never seen a woman in real life before but if there was a real life woman, that’s what she’d be.

And dead, too, of course, but nothing as obvious as burns and a gash, not even blood on her clothes so maybe she’s busted up on the inside.

But a woman. An actual woman.

I shine the torch at the girl. She don’t flinch away.

“That’s yer ma and pa, ain’t it?” I ask, my voice low.

The girl don’t say nothing but it’s gotta be true.

I shine the torch over the wreckage and think of the burnt ditch behind it and it can only mean one thing. She crashed here with her ma and pa. They died. She lived. And if she came from somewhere else on New World or if she came from somewhere else altogether, don’t matter. They died, she lived, and she was here all alone.

And got found by Aaron.

When luck ain’t with you, it’s against you.

On the ground I see drag marks where the girl must have pulled the bodies out of the crash and brought them here. But the swamp ain’t for burying anything but Spackle cuz after two inches of dirt you pretty much just get water and so here they sit. I hate to say it but they do smell, tho in the overall smell of the swamp it ain’t as bad as you think, so who knows how long she’s been here.

The girl looks at me again, not crying, not smiling, just blank as ever. Then she walks past me, walks back along the drag marks, walks to the door I saw open in the side of the wreckage, climbs up and disappears inside.