Kingdom: The Complete Series (53 page)

Jamie is aware of
others behind him, and peeks over his shoulder: the rest of the squad are
following him through the desks, keeping low and quiet. Mark is at the front,
catching up to Jamie.

“
You
got a plan?” he whispers.

“
Yeah,
stop time and put a few bullets down his throat.”

“
Probably
won't work.”

“
What
if we get Donald close to him? Stop his heart?”

“
Probably
a better idea,” says Mark, and hesitates before adding: “I can be a distraction
if you need it.”

The rest of the squad
catch up and crouch behind a desk next to Jamie and Mark.

“
Guys,”
says
Chloe through their earpieces.
“Guy's you're visible on the camera. I think
the King knows you're -”

Jamie and Mark glance
at each other. The monologue has stopped.

“
Here
they are,” booms the King, turning at the desk.

Jamie and Mark sigh and
stand up, meeting his burning gaze.

“
Glasgow's
heroes,
” he sighs.
“
Here to steal the future from us.”

“
Sounds
about right,” says Mark. He turns and whispers to Jamie as he steps forward.
“Freeze time and get Donald to him.”

Jamie gives him an
imperceptible nod.

Mark steps into the
lane between desks and starts strolling towards the King.

“
Showing
your face in public now?” asks Mark, opening his palms like a businessman as he
approaches.

“
Actually
I've got my back to the camera, Mark. Care to join me?”

He motions to the
anchor's desk as Mark comes to a stop.

“
No,
I don't imagine I'll be staying long,” says Mark, and looks past the King's
shoulder to the cameras.

The King flexes his
arms and neck in his exquisite navy-blue suit, checking his cuff links and
shaking any tension out of his muscles.

“
This
didn't go so well for you last time, son.”

“
That
was then. Now we're here to give you an ultimatum.”

“
Oh
really? You'll want to say it loud enough for the cameras, then.”

“
Fine,”
says Mark, stepping forward. The King tilts his head back as he approaches,
smirking down his nose. “Paul King. I am making a citizen's arrest, for -” Mark
pauses, and shrugs. “For just about every crime there is. Let's go for 'crimes
against humanity', eh? Given your immense strength, I am warning you that if
you fail to surrender, I will restrain you by force.”

The King smiles, and
turns his back to Mark, facing the camera.

“
Citizens
of Glasgow – of the world. Watch what happens to those who stand in the way of
progress; of the Kingdom.”

The King turns, cracks
his neck, and then rushes Mark.

Mark raises his arms to
protect his face like a boxer, and the King crashes into him.

Jamie ducks and
flinches as desks and computers fly over their heads.

“
What
do we
do?”
asks Gary, trying to bury himself under the table.

“
Donald,”
shouts Jamie, “grab my hand and come with me.”

Donald nods, letting
Jamie lead him.

The sound dies away as
they link hands, and their friends freeze mid-moment. Donald takes a breath,
like a rush of static in the silence, and lifts his mask for air.

“
What's
the plan?” he asks Jamie.

“
Don,
you're probably not going to like this -”

“
You
want me to kill him?”

Jamie says nothing,
twisting his mouth into a verbal shrug.

“
Well,
yeah. Nothing else that we've got can hurt him.”

Donald nods, sighing.
“I reckon I'm saving at least a few hundred lives by ending his anyway. Let's
go.”

Jamie takes the ageing
doctor out into the mess of desks that now lie scattered like cars in a pileup.
In the middle of the detritus stand the two titans, Mark and the King, frozen
in that second. Mark is losing, even with time stopped Jamie can see that. He
has his arms raised to block the King's blow, oblivious to the elbow the King
is aiming at his ribs.

“
Ok,”
says Jamie, circling the fighters. He treads with caution; for all that time
has stopped, he can't shake the feeling that the King will turn and break his
neck at any moment.

“
Right,”
says Donald. “You just do your thing, and let me do mine.”

They step over a
shattered monitor, and Donald reaches out for the King as though expecting to
get burned. Jamie keeps the revolver trained on the King's head as Donald
grasps his wrist and closes his eyes, his breathing slowing until Jamie can't
hear it at all.

“
Ok,”
whispers Donald. “Here we go.”

Jamie watches Donald as
he ruffles his grey ponytail and wipes the sweat from his face, then readjusts
his grip and begins to breath heavily.

Jamie notices a faint
tingling in the air, like walking under a power line. The air around Donald
grows a little colder, a little dryer. Jamie can feel time building up in his
head, trying to break through – he holds it back, letting Donald work.

With a sudden gasp that
makes Jamie jump, Donald lets go of the King and reels back, clutching his head
as blood streams from his nostrils. Jamie catches him, keeping time frozen for
them, and lowers him to the floor.

“
Don?
Don, are you ok?”

“
Fine,”
he grunts, and rubs his eyes with his free hand. Bloody tears well at the edges
of his eyes, staining his face like war-paint. “It's done. He's dead.”

“
What?
Just like that?”

“
Stopped
his heart. He's only human, Jamie.”

“
Good
man, Don. Good man.”

“
I
don't feel like a good man,” sighs Donald, and struggles to his feet with
Jamie's help.

“
Ok,
I'm going to let time come back, ok?”

“
Ready
when you are.”

Mark raises his arm to
block the King's hammering downward blow – but as he catches the King's first
strike, an elbow slips in under his guard and crushes his ribs, punching the
air from his lungs.

Reeling, Mark blinks
the sweat from his eyes and swings a wild haymaker.

It never connects.

The King has stopped
like a broken machine, standing on the spot, staring at Mark as his lips
blubber and tremble. He's trying to talk – trying to shake his head – and he
clutches at his heart. Hands that were clenched in anger have gone numb,
fumbling with the buttons on his waistcoat as he falls; first to his knees,
with a heavy, resounding thud. Then he pitches forward as the life leaves his
eyes, and crunches a hole in the floor where his heavy head lands.

Mark hasn't moved yet.

“
Well,”
says Jamie from behind him. Mark whips around. “That was bloody anticlimactic.”

“
My
head,” groans Donald, rubbing his temples.

“
Did
you -” Mark points, and Jamie nods.

“
It's
done. Over. The King is dead, long live the King, all that pish.”

Jamie holds up a hand,
raising a finger to his ear.

“
Oh,”
he adds, “Chloe is reminding me that we are live on television, so, you know.
If you want to say anything, now's the time.”

“
Uh,
I don't know,” groans Mark, stopping his protests when the rest of the squad
join them over the King's body.

Stacy folds her arms.
“Say something, Mark. The world's watching, this is your chance.”

He shrugs. “I guess.
Doesn't anybody want to come up with me?”

Trespasser One cradles
his shotgun in the crease of his elbow. “You're the big hero, Mark. Go do your
thing.”

“
Technically
it was Donald -” he begins, and Donald cuts him off.

“
Let's
just keep that to ourselves. Go.”

Mark gives them all a
nervous smile and turns, walking towards the cameras.

Standing in front of
the array of waiting cameras, with bodies lying limp around the studio, Mark
struggles to find any inspiring or reassuring words to say.

“
Some
of you might know me,” he tells the camera, unsure of which one to look at out
of the three. “My name is Mark. I, uh -” he swallows, trying to think clearly.
Alcohol fogs his mind, tugging half-formed thoughts off into the darkness
before he can speak them aloud. “Well, the King is gone. You don't need to be
afraid of him anymore. We can start rebuilding Glasgow properly, and, uh -”

He doesn't get any
further than that.

That's when the
screaming starts.

The King's corpse
twitches like a mangled puppet, and before Jamie can say anything the King has
leapt to his feet, snarling like a wild animal, his eyes red and his nose
trickling blood. His face is flushed, every vein in his neck and forehead
standing out like track marks.

Jamie can't even get a
shot off before the King is taking them apart.

Donald is the first –
the King reaches into the bearded man's throat and closes his fist with a
fleshy crunch. Grasping at his neck, Donald crumples to the ground. Jamie calls
his name and drops with him, trying to help. Cathy throws herself down next to
Donald, cradling him like a lover.

The King sweeps past
Cath and kicks her so hard in the stomach that she is thrown across the desks,
tumbling like a ragdoll.

Jamie looks on in
horror, certain that he heard her spine break.

Stacy tries to throw
herself clear, but the King grabs her by the hair and jerks her head back. Her
neck snaps like a twig.

Trespasser One buys
himself a second, firing his shotgun point-blank into the King's face as he
turns. Flinching, the King holds his face in agony and rips the shotgun from
Trespasser One's hands. He aims a punch at the Trespasser's heart, but a blue
forcefield blooms around the soldier.

Jamie looks down into
Donald's eyes in time to watch the light fade from behind them. With a shiver,
the doctor dies.

The King disregards the
Trespasser within the forcefield; he turns, and sees Gary with his head in his
hands, focused on the forcefield, vulnerable. He charges.

Only now, fighting the
pain in his head, does Jamie manage to stop time. The King is halfway towards
Gary, fist cocked back. Moving quickly, Jamie grabs Gary and pulls him out of
the way.

Time is burrowing
through his head like a drill, threatening to shake his eyes and teeth loose.
He lets time flow again, and the King smashes through the air where Gary would
have been, shattering desks and glass as he tries to stop himself.

The forcefield around
Trespasser One goes down, and a flurry of pistol shots hit the King in the back
of the head, bowling him over. Jamie takes aim himself as the King turns; he
puts two shots into the King's chest that knock him back like punches.

Then Mark arrives.

What comes out of
Mark's mouth is a scream halfway between rage and grief. Cath's body lies
sprawled across a desk. Donald lies lifeless on the floor, his throat caved in.
Stacy's eyes have glassed over, her neck bent at an unnatural angle.

Mark hits the King hard
enough to throw him over every desk between them and the wall, and through that
as well. Concrete and plaster explode from the wall as the King charges back
through it -

Straight into Gary's
forcefield. It bends and cracks, but it holds, stopping the King in his tracks
and knocking him down.

Jamie steps aside,
trying to stay low behind a desk, and gets another shot off. It hits the King
in the shoulder as he gets up and charges. Only a momentary time-stop lets
Jamie get out the way before the King charges through his cover, almost
flattening him.

Trespasser One pops out
from cover and empties a pistol magazine into the King, who bats the bullets
away like irritating insects.

Mark closes with him
again, his mind lost to the rage now, and the two stand toe to toe exchanging
blows.

Jamie keeps low and
breathes, trying to stop time as he checks his revolver; two bullets left.
Blood trickles from his nose, dropping onto his hand and staining it.