Kingdom: The Complete Series (11 page)

“
Go,
he can't hold it for long.”

Jamie whispers, his
voice strained. “I've never stopped it for other people before.”

Mark looks at Jamie,
bleeding heavily from his nose, eyes screwed shut as if enduring some horrible
operation. He turns to the roof's edge and begins to run, picking up Chloe and
Jamie beneath his arms. Nervous fingers grasp at one another, their bodies
merging into one confused and frightened six-legged entity. Mark speeds up,
leaving pieces of dirt and gravel suspended in mid-air behind them.

The crunch of his feet
on the roof seem hollow. There are no echoes. Sound does not travel here.

Then Mark hits the edge
of the roof and launches himself off, cradling Jamie and Chloe close like
frightened children in the darkness. The jump carries them into the air, where Mark
expects the wind to buffet him and snatch at his face – but with time at a
standstill, he feels nothing. They drift through the air like a twisted circus
act before falling to the next roof.  The building rushes up to meet them with
its flat concrete roof.

Mark tenses his legs
and tries to keep Chloe and Jamie as safe as he can: they hit the roof together
and Mark curses and drops them. Jamie cries out and rolls away over the roof;
time snaps back before Chloe can grab him.

Sound and light return
like an explosion, and Mark clutches his ears and falls to his knees in fright.

“
What
the hell -” he starts, and then Chloe pulls Jamie to his feet. Holding his
hand, she drags him towards Mark.

“
Get
up, get up,” she motions for him to rise, “we haven't got time. Wait for the
sound to go again.”

Mark holds them both
under his arms once more, and the silence comes quicker this time. Everything
around them dies. He takes the moment to breathe in the grey stillness and runs
for the roof's edge again, running and jumping for the next building.

“
Not
far to go,” Mark shouts as they drift across the chasm between mountain peaks
of masonry and steel. He cradles Jamie like a child as they land, bending his
body around him like a protective shield. This time the world stays still.

“
Go...”
Jamie groans, and then smacks Mark's chest. “Just hurry, hurry, keep going.”

“
Nearly
there, Jamie, just hold on,” Mark shouts, and runs for the edge of the next
roof.

Two pale hands, one
Jamie's and one Chloe's, link across Mark's chest. She holds him as though she
is sitting aside him in a surgery ward.

Jamie's heart quickens,
his face turning red as though he were struggling to hold a breath. In his
head, the flow of time is stronger than he has ever felt it. It batters against
the walls in his head: not just his time, but the time of two others as well.

Cracks begin to appear.
Bursts of sound and light, heat and life, breaking into his frozen prison.

Then he feels Chloe's
hand squeezing his, and for a moment he is back in their flat, cooking her
dinner while she lounges about in his shirt.

Time relents, and he
strengthens the walls of his mind to hold it at bay.

Mark leaps into the air
again.

Their journey through
the skies of the silent city brings them closer and closer to the ground, every
jump taking them a few stories downward, until they land on a low roof detailed
by a wall around the edge, a large domed skylight, and a single hatch in one
corner.

“
We're
here,” Mark says, and releases his hold on the couple. The life and colour
returns to the world around them like the bursting of a balloon.

Jamie clutches at his
forehead and staggers away, dragging Chloe by the hand for a second before
collapsing to the ground. He breaks his own fall, the palms of his hands
scraping along the felt roofing. Chloe throws herself to her knees beside him,
shouting his name as he rolls onto his back. Blood is clotting in his nostrils;
his breathing is laboured.

“
I'm
fine,” he manages between breaths, his face contorted in pain.

“
Just
try to breathe,” she says.

He feels for her hand
like a blind man and she takes it, squeezing it to block out the pain.

“
Is
he ok?” Mark asks, massaging some life back into his tired legs as he walks
over.

“
Did
we make it?” Jamie's voice is tense and hoarse.

“
We
made it,” Mark nods, patting Chloe on the shoulder. “Couldn't have done it
without you mate.”

“
It's
harder.” Jamie wipes his nose and uses Chloe's hand to pull himself up.
“Stopping time for others. I can go longer myself, but keeping it stopped for
you guys too,” he sighs and shakes his head. He looks at the blood smeared
across his hand and quickly clasps it to his chest as though it were a secret.

Chloe looks over her
shoulder at Mark, frowning.

“
Let's
not make him do that again.”

“
I
agree,” Mark says, and offers a hand to Jamie. They look at each other for a
silent moment, before Jamie clasps his palm around Mark's wrist and the janitor
pulls him to his feet as though he were made of paper.

Jamie steadies himself
on Chloe's shoulder, and she laces an arm around his back to support him.

“
So
where are we?”

“
The
Gardens,” says Mark, motioning to the hatch in the corner. “Follow me, I'll
explain everything.”

“
This
is where you told that soldier to come,” Chloe bites her lip, struggling to
walk under Jamie's weight.

“
Trespasser
One, yeah.” Mark looks back at her. “I think that he's from Glasgow. Did you
hear his accent?”

“
He
didn't know about the King,” says Chloe.

“
Everybody
knows about the King.” Jamie lets out a breath he had been holding. “It's just
that nobody talks about it. We're all too ashamed – or frightened.”

“
I
can't hear the helicopter,” says Chloe. “His idea must have worked. I hope he
made it.”

Mark notices her
struggling and comes to take Jamie's other arm. Together they carry him towards
the hatch whilst he hangs his head in exhaustion.

Mark pats his grey suit
trousers as they approach the hatch, laughing.

“
No
keys. Looks like I'm going to have to get in the old fashioned way.”

“
What's
the old fashioned -”

Mark stamps his foot on
the hinge and the hatch buckles upwards. He leans and catches it, and motions
for Chloe to go in,

“
I've
got Jamie, on you go. It's safe.”

Chloe gives him a
thankful look and feels about in the darkness for the ladder rungs, before
descending into the shadows.

“
Right
Jamie, just hold on...” Mark almost carries him down, till he feels Jamie's
hand slap against his chest, stopping him.

“
I
can manage.” Jamie's voice is cracked as though he's on the verge of sleep. He
staggers away from Mark and fumbles for the rungs, drifting down the hatch like
a ghost.

Mark smiles and follows
him.

A brief walk down a
hallway brings them to a huge, open gallery as tall and wide as the building,
as though the walls outside are merely a shell. Banisters and walkways run in a
spiral like a children's slide around the interior, from the lowest, circular
levels to the uppermost level that they stand on.

There must be at least
twenty different doors, a few on each level, and the wide open space in the
centre of the gallery is filled with the soft, sweet fragrance of flowers. The
skylight allows what little sunlight there is outside to trickle in like syrup,
illuminating the myriad motes of dust that dance in the light beam.

Clutching onto the hand
rail, Chloe looks over and sees, far down at the bottom, a lush garden
exploding with colour. Royal blues and cool greens soothe her eyes, and she
takes a deep breath of the old air and lets out a relaxed sigh.

This place speaks of
safety and kindness.

“
What
is this place?” Jamie asks, coming to his senses in their new sanctuary –
though he keeps a firm grip on the banister.

“
The
Gardens, like I said,” Mark tells them as he leads them down the stairs.

 
As
though he is remembering himself, his shoulders straighten out and he lifts his
chin. They follow him like loyal servants as he strolls with regal elegance
around the spiral walkway, descending the occasional steps with the grace of a
prince.

Jamie looks around, his
eyes searching out the old interior like a curious explorer. It has the feel of
an abandoned, ancient structure, left for so long that nature has been allowed
to take over. The sounds of the chaos and fighting in the city centre are
distant memories, a universe away from them in this bubble of serenity. Rain
and the grey winds are forgotten in here, the building decorated with warm oaks
and shades of cream.

“
What
are the Gardens, then?” Jamie tries.

“
I'll
show you once you're ready,” says Mark, and then raises a hand to the next
door. “This is room sixteen, the living quarters. I imagine you could use a
rest.”

He grasps the handle of
the heavy wooden door and twists it left, then right, then pulls it outwards
and pushes it in again. The door unlocks with a click, and he turns and smiles,

“
Keyless
entry, means that nobody has anything to be stolen by others.”

Chloe almost begins
asking questions, but she falls silent as Mark opens the door and leads them
into the living quarters. He steps aside and spreads his arms wide,

“
The
living quarters,” he announces.

They take in the sight:
a long, thin room lined with bunk beds on either side. Each bed is made; Jamie
guesses there must be at least forty in this room alone. Between some beds are
sinks coupled with hand pumps, and a few radios. Two telephones are attached to
the walls at either end of the room, beside two green first aid kits.

“
What
is
this place, Mark? Some kind of bunk house, or...?”

“
This
is my project, Jamie. Five years of my life,” Mark turns, his eyes filled with
unspoken stories as he mentally tears the scabs off old wounds. He takes a deep
breath. “This is what ruined me – this, and the King.”

His voice trails off as
his eyes look into the past. Mark snaps back like elastic as he turns with a
smile.

“
Would
you like to rest for a while, catch your breath? Or shall I give you the tour
first?”

“
I
think I want the tour,” says Jamie. “I'm curious.”

“
Then
follow me,” Mark tells them as he leads them out of the dormitories. “There's a
lot to see. How much do you know about Glasgow's homeless?”

They follow him out of
the door and it clicks shut behind them as he leads them down the stairs to the
next door. Jamie and Chloe look at one another, exchanging a look filled with
apprehension. Jamie gives her a trusting nod.

“
A
lot,” he says, his eyes still on Chloe. “We spent a long time on the streets.”

Mark stops, turning on
them with concern written across his face.

“
What?”

“
We
were homeless. That's what led to me meeting the King, actually. He targets the
desperate.”

“
Yes.”
Mark gives them a solemn nod. “Yes he does. This will be of great interest to
you both, then.” He leads them down the stairs and begins opening the next
door. “The Gardens were created with Glasgow's poor and vulnerable in mind.”

Chloe takes Jamie's
hand as Mark leads them into the next room, and squeezes it as the memories of
those nights on the streets begin to come back – but the memories are of things
gone past. Times already behind them. For now, she reminds herself, they are
safe. Nobody saw them come here. Nobody knows where they are.

They're safe in the
Gardens, whatever the Gardens are, for the time being.

“
Before
I forget,” says Mark, talking to himself. He lifts his elbow and finds the
camouflaged tracker-patch, and depresses it with a thumb. A faint vibration
tells him that is turned on, and he continues to lead them down the stairs. 

Episode
9

The
Gardens