Dancing Jax Page 21

  Gerald assumed a haughty, kingly manner and accepted the nearest three. Spencer found himself next to a window overlooking the wing. The boy stared round at the packed aircraft with increasing dismay and he clutched his Stetson fretfully.

  “There’s too many,” he hissed at Gerald. “There’s no way this can take off, or if it does it won’t stay in the air long. This is worse than getting out of the mountain. At least death would have been instantaneous in there. This is crazy. I want to get off! Seriously, I have to get off!”

  He tried to rise from the seat, but Gerald pushed him back.

  “Sit still and be quiet,” the old man told him. “If you make a scene, the game’s up for us.”

  “You are baby,” Eun-mi said with disgust as she stowed the rifles, grenades and her blanket roll in the overhead locker.

  “Er… I’m just ruddy sensible,” the boy replied anxiously. “This is mental. We’re all going to get killed on this death trap. Plummeting out of the sky is, like, near the top of the ways I do not want to die.”

  “Spencer,” Gerald said with an edge in his voice. “There simply isn’t an alternative. This is our only possible chance of getting back home and it’s a miracle we managed to get on board. If you try to get off this aircraft, every single one of these passengers will know you’re an aberrant and rip you to pieces. Where does that rank on your scale of doom?”

  “About the same actually! If I believed in something I could pray to, I’d be doing it like crazy right now.”

  Gerald smiled reassuringly at him. “Of course there’s a something,” he said. “I don’t mean the twisted God-squad stuff, spouted by bigots and hypocrites in black frocks. I’ve spent my entire life and career being hated by that lot. No, there’s something bigger than that, but it’s too huge and too wonderful to be put in a book for people to hit one another with.”

  “How can you think like that? I mean, after everything?”

  The old man gave a small laugh. “That’s why I’m surer than ever. We’re up to our necks in shadows, Spence, but you can’t have them without there being a bloody big light on somewhere. Evelyn always says—” He stopped himself abruptly and rubbed his eyes. Would she never leave him alone?

  “More fairy tales,” Eun-mi said sourly. “You should not tell him such lies. That is why the West brought this sickness on itself and infected my country. Why must we always suffer because of you?”

  “Breathe deeply and try to relax and blot it out,” Gerald resumed, ignoring her. “Don’t work yourself into a state.”

  Spencer crumpled the hat to his chest and looked out of the window. What he saw there made it even worse. People had clambered on to the wing and were waiting for take-off. He turned back to Gerald, who was humming ‘I’ve Got a Little List’ to himself.

  “Have you seen…?”

  The old man nodded, but there was absolutely nothing they could do. “There’s probably more crouched up in the spaces for the landing gear,” he said. “And in the hold – and hanging on to the tail.”

  “Will make plane lighter when they fall,” Eun-mi commented with cold practicality. “That is good.”

  Gerald bit his tongue to avoid an argument and Spencer covered the window with his Stetson.

  The plane began to taxi to the runway. Presently it picked up speed and took off. The people in the aisle fell into one another and across the seats. Spencer gritted his teeth as the aircraft climbed higher. This was it.

  After half an hour in the air, when the passengers had settled once more and were absorbed in reading the book, the boy dared to peel back the brim of his hat and look out.

  The wing was empty, except for one solitary figure who had somehow managed to survive the sub-zero temperatures and remain clinging on. Spencer saw the frost on the man’s hands and the ice in his hair and realised that, if he wasn’t dead already, he soon would be. Then, as he watched, the man’s frozen fingers came loose and he slid away – disappearing into the clouds. Spencer re-covered the window hastily.

  “Try and get some sleep,” Gerald suggested softly. “You’ll need all your strength when we get home. The worst is yet to come.”

  A little after 5pm GMT, over twelve hours later, the plane touched down at Stansted. The dark December sky was full of aircraft coming from every part of the globe. As soon as one landed, another came in straight after. The smoking remains of a crash burned across seven of the surrounding fields. So far, Stansted had got off lightly. Every other UK airport and airstrip had experienced catastrophic disasters. At Heathrow, two runways were submerged beneath a blazing holocaust of tangled, white-hot metal. And still the planes came in to land, flying down through the black, blinding smoke. Explosion after explosion thundered across the night and hungry creatures gathered round the flaming wreckage, waiting for fires to die.

  Spencer could not believe they had made it and when they stepped on to the tarmac he almost fell on his knees to kiss the ground. But Eun-mi was already striding on, pushing through the other passengers, satchel of grenades over one shoulder, automatic rifle slung across the other, blanket roll tucked under her arm. They soon discovered there was no security or Customs here either. Every gate was open and the influx of Dancing Jax pilgrims came flooding through.

  “How far is new castle?” Eun-mi demanded. “Where is Kent place?”

  “A couple of hours’ drive,” Gerald informed her.

  “So we need vehicle.”

  This was less of a problem than any of them expected. Leaving the main concourse, they stepped out on to the long, straight road, and found that special coaches had been laid on. At least seventy of them were lined up and thousands of people were trying to board. English Jaxers dressed as pages and serfs were attempting to keep some semblance of order and usher them into queues, but the eager excitement of the new arrivals made this a difficult task.

  Eun-mi was about to join the nearest queue when she saw Gerald hang back and lead Spencer away.

  “We go!” she shouted to them in annoyance. “Get on bus.”

  The old man shook his head. “We’re not going that way,” he told her. “Not on a coach.”

  “You come!” she commanded, moving her hand to the holster on her hip, threateningly.

  “Oh, give it a rest,” Gerald said. “You’re not going to shoot us now. Get on your coach and I wish you the best of British, whatever that means nowadays. I really do.”

  Eun-mi scowled at him, but she didn’t take out the pistol.

  “You – old fool,” she snapped angrily as she turned away and followed the shuffling queue.

  “She’s full of stale news today,” Gerald observed.

  “I’m glad she’s gone,” Spencer declared. “She never lets up, does she?”

  “She’s a maiden, cold and stately,” Gerald sang.

  “Do you think she’ll find her sister?”

  “Not a hope. Little Nabi will be right in the thick of it by now. Eun-mi won’t get anywhere near Austerly Fellows and his entourage. She might be determined, but that won’t be enough. I don’t think she’ll even get within several miles of the place. The traffic on the roads to Kent will be the worst jam there’s ever been. Half the world is making its way there. She’ll be stuck on a bus for days, not that there’ll be any days after tomorrow.”

  “But you think we can get through?”

  Gerald shrugged. “I’ve got a very silly idea, that’s all, but sometimes they work best.”

  “I hope Maggie and the others are still OK.”

  “You and me both, Spence.”

  “We won’t be able to help them, will we? I mean this is it now, isn’t it? The end of everything. We’re just going to be with them, aren’t we?”

  “If we can be,” Gerald said. “If we can. There’s nothing else we can do.”

  Crossing the bustling road, they went in search of another mode of transport. The car park was nearby, but they didn’t even need to go that far. Dozens of airport taxis were pulled up, abandoned. Th
e drivers had boarded the coaches days ago. None of the cabs were locked and they all had keys in the ignition.

  “No crime,” Spencer explained when he saw Gerald’s puzzlement. “No theft to worry about, no muggings, no murders, no drugs.”

  “No humanity.”

  Putting their rifles on the back seat, they got in and Spencer turned on the radio.

  Every station was broadcasting the same repeated message, in between the usual jaunty Christmas songs, which seemed hideously inappropriate this year.

  “Can you believe it? Only one more day till the night before Christmas and the awesome publication of Fighting Pax! Our tinsel and baubles are moist just thinking about it. The county of Kent is bursting at the seams, but there’s always room for more. If you’re not here then why not? Don’t miss out! Come join the spectacle. The fun is just beginning and soon it’ll be time to play Flee the Beast. What are you waiting for?”

  And then Boney M began singing about Mary’s boy child. Gerald grimaced and turned them off. Adjusting the rear-view mirror, he prepared to drive away.

  “What’s wrong?” Spencer asked when the car didn’t move and he saw the man’s face register surprise.

  Gerald turned in his seat and Spencer noticed a figure come walking round the cab to stand outside the driver’s door.

  “I drive!” a familiar voice barked.

  And there was Eun-mi, stiff and belligerent, still wearing the same scowl.

  “Missing us already?” the old man teased when he rolled the window down.

  “Too many crowd, not enough bus,” she retorted. “Take too long. This better way.”

  Gerald almost laughed. That was such a blatant lie. She was alone in a foreign country and, for all her bravado, was still very young. But she would never admit to being afraid, so he didn’t press her.

  “Yes, you’re right,” he said generously. “Get in, but I’m driving. You have no idea how to get there.”

  The girl accepted the logic of this, but refused to sit in the back. With a roll of the eyes and plenty of grumbling, Spencer got out and assumed his by now familiar position.

  “To new castle,” Eun-mi directed as Gerald drove off.

  The old man said nothing. There was somewhere else he had to go first.

  And so Spencer dozed, with his head against the window, and the amber glare of the street lamps skimmed across his face. He didn’t stir when they pulled into a deserted garage for petrol and Gerald stocked up on supplies, and not even at the sound of unearthly cries in the distance. Such noises were no longer extraordinary. The only thing that registered vaguely was the fact they weren’t nearby.

  Almost an hour later, when he was waking and it was no use trying to chase after the last elusive, comforting dregs of sleep, he sat up and scratched his head.

  There were no more street lights. They had left the main roads behind and were travelling down a country lane, margined by high hedges. It was pitch-black out there, but Spencer didn’t have time to wonder where they were. Eun-mi was arguing with Gerald.

  Throughout the journey, they’d passed a lot of traffic going in the opposite direction, but their lane had always remained totally deserted. No other vehicle was going this way. The North Korean girl’s suspicions increased steadily until, at last, she challenged Gerald.

  “This not the way!” she snapped. “Where we go? Take me to castle!”

  It was no use pretending any longer – Gerald had been rumbled.

  “No, this isn’t the way to Kent,” he confessed. “I have something more important to do first.”

  The girl could not believe it. What could possibly be more important?

  “You stop car!” she commanded in outrage, slamming her fist on the dash. “Turn round. I must get to castle! You stop!”

  “We’re just about there,” Gerald said. “We’ve still got plenty of time to—”

  His voice broke off. Eun-mi had pulled her gun on him and pressed the muzzle against his head. With steel in her voice, she said, “You bad old man. You do what I say or I shoot.”

  Gerald put his foot on the accelerator and the taxi sped faster down the darkened country lanes.

  “You do that, dear,” he warned defiantly, “and the only place we’ll end up is in a ditch – dead or dying.”

  “I shoot!” she promised.

  “If you want to see little Nabi again, you’ll put that silly thing away. Trust me, where we’re headed might actually help us.”

  “Stop car!”

  “Not until we get where I’m going.”

  “Stop! I will shoot!”

  “Don’t be ruddy stupid!” Spencer shouted.

  “Almost there,” Gerald said.

  Eun-mi glanced out at the empty road streaking by beneath the headlights. Every moment was taking her further from where she wanted to be. It was not to be tolerated.

  “Stop car!” she demanded one final time.

  The girl’s face set hard as stone. Why was he ignoring her? She didn’t make empty threats; he should know that by now. He had brought this on himself; she had given him enough chances. More than she should.

  Bracing herself for the imminent crash, Eun-mi pulled the trigger.

  “No!” Spencer yelled.

  But there was no deafening shot, just a click.

  Gerald raised his eyebrows. “I wondered if you’d actually do it,” he said with measured disappointment. “I’d hoped we’d progressed beyond that stage – obviously not. I took the liberty of removing the bullets when you nodded off on the plane.”

  “You really would have shot him!” Spencer cried in shock. “You’d have killed him! You’re off your head you are! Your whole lousy country is off its head! Why didn’t you shoot your maniac leader and your crazy Generals and do yourselves a favour?”

  His words cut deep into the grief and guilt the girl had stifled and bottled up regarding her father. Now they came raging to the surface and she finally lost control. Shrieking, she spun round in the seat, grabbed hold of Spencer’s shirt and dragged him forward. Then she drew her other arm back to deliver a hideous blow to his face.

  Gerald slammed on the brakes. The car skidded in a sharp curve across the road and Eun-mi was flung off balance, hitting her head on the windscreen.

  “You all right, Spence?” he called out.

  Spencer had slithered off the back seat. “Just dump her here,” he said, fuming as he reappeared. “We don’t need her any more. Get rid of her, she’s a ruddy liability, she’s going to get us killed, she’s off her rocker.”

  Gerald pulled off the lane and into a gap in the trees and hedgerow, where an unlit track receded into darkness beyond the reach of the headlights. He killed the engine and got out, taking one of the rifles and the bag of grenades.

  Breathing hard, furious with herself for failing and determined not to show how much her head hurt where she’d struck the windscreen, Eun-mi folded her arms. Her eyes followed Gerald as he walked round the cab to open the passenger door.

  “I not move,” she said proudly. “I am the daughter of General Chung Kang-dae – I will not kneel on ground and be shot. Shoot me where I sit, old man, if you have the stomach.”

  “Oh, if only you were aware how funny that sounds,” Gerald answered. “Now don’t be such a melodramatic diva. We don’t go in for murder like that here, but I don’t trust you as far as I could throw you, which really isn’t very far, so I’m not leaving poor Spence on his own with you. You’d better get out so he can lock himself in.”

  “Er… what?” the boy asked. “What’s going on?”

  “We’re here, Spence,” Gerald explained. “This is it. I’m just going to walk up ahead for a short while. I want you to stop in the cab and be safe. If I’m not back in an hour then get out of here – fast.”

  Spencer spluttered and shook his head in protest. Before Gerald could stop him, he jumped out of the taxi.

  “There’s no way you’re going anywhere on your own!” the boy declared hotly. “We
’ve been through too much to split up now. We’re like Butch and Sundance.”

  Gerald almost laughed. “Thank you for the ‘Butch’,” he said. “But you don’t understand. This place – it’s too dangerous.”

  “What? More dangerous than almost getting my brain scooped out? Than escaping through an exploding mountain? Driving through the dark with those winged nightmares overhead? Flying in an overcrowded death trap? More dangerous than being a prisoner in that camp with Jangler and those filthy guards? How could anything be more dangerous than any of that? Where is this place? Where the hell are we?”

  “Suffolk,” Gerald told him. “Just a few miles out of Felixstowe. At the end of this track is the old family home of Austerly Fellows, where all of this evil and horror first started.”

  16

  SPENCER WAS SPEECHLESS. The bare twigs and branches of the winter trees stirred, although there was no breeze.

  “So, please,” Gerald advised softly, “get back in the car and wait.”

  The boy looked around nervously.

  “No chance,” he refused again. “I’m sticking with you. That’s what friends do.”

  “You’ve got no idea what might be in there!”

  “Er… have you? See! This is just like when Butch and the Kid leap off the cliff in the movie. We’ve been jumping into the unknown for days. Why stop now? Besides, I’ll go absolutely crazy sat here waiting, imagining all sorts. It’d be a hundred times worse.”

  Gerald was about to argue when Eun-mi emerged from the cab.

  “Ismus live where?” she demanded, staring around and behaving as if she hadn’t just tried to kill them both.

  “There’s a house further on,” Gerald repeated, pointing up the track. “He doesn’t live there any more. But it’s where he grew up.”

  “Why you come here?”

  Gerald glanced around and lowered his voice to a whisper. “Because the inside of that house might just hold some clue, some secret that could help us. We need every tiny bit we can get.”