Should Have Killed The Kid (32 page)

'Stay close, Will.' Marge's honeyed tones signalled her return to grandmother mode. Dave turned to see her leaning on her cane and looking up at the apex of the dome that surrounded them, one arm raised above her head. It was a close replica of the one that Monty had put in place during their escape from the skyscraper. The only difference Dave could tell was that it seemed to glow a slightly pinker hue.

'Let's go, head forward,' Marge said and slowly started moving forward with the one arm raised above her head. Dave saw that the bubble was shifting with her, bulging as the weight of the car dragged against its side. He quickly hastened over to her side where Will already waited; seemingly having returned to his zombie mode, he stared around vacantly. Dave did his best to ignore the sweat streaming down Marge's face, telling himself it was just the heat that caused it.

She must have caught him looking though because she grunted.

'What, still worried? Ha, I told you Monty was a fucking pussy. I mean watch this.' Marge gestured at the shield where it had started to drag the car in their wake. Abruptly, the car passed through the barrier and it snapped back into its perfect dome shape. 'Bet you Monty couldn't alter fucking density even if he wanted to, right?'

Dave stared dumbly after the car uncertain of how he should react to the display. Fortunately Marge didn't seem to need a response. She turned her attention forward again.

Dave squeezed his eyes shut then opened them just in time to wince as a shadow flitted out of the surrounding rubble, hit the bubble and glided oily across the top before disappearing under the car behind them.

'Keep moving,' Marge muttered; her voice terse and taut as though, despite her display – or maybe because of it – the effort of maintaining their shield had just doubled. Dave tried his best to ignore the patches of black that lurked all around and focused on the rubble ahead, trying to pick a path through the destruction. 'It's not too far now,' Marge continued, 'hopefully,' she added and Dave felt sick to the stomach.

Not far to the bridge yeah,
he didn't dare voice his fears aloud,
but after that we've still got to make it to Hent.

The net of crisscrossed metal and wood above their head creaked ominously as the shield bumped it and for a second there was a unified sharp intake of breath beneath the dome. The whole lot didn't come crashing down though and after a brief pause they continued on. Dave wasn't sure exactly what Marge did – to him it looked as though she merely clenched her fist but the surrounding glow shrunk down a little to allow them passage.

She had to repeat the process twice more as they headed deeper into the thicket of debris and the shield around them tightened until it grew close and claustrophobic. Dave could even see the condensation of their sweat start to slicken its inner surface.

You're fucked this time, aren't you...

All this effort and you're going to get there and not be able to do it anyway...

Everyone's dead because of you...

All because you couldn't do something so simple...

One by one the voices filtered up, taunting him as he moved forward. Each of the players taking their turn. First Monty, then Naomi, then Sally, then even the Gallo's took their turn. Bruno and Marcus delivering their lines in tandem.

Dave did his best to ignore them but it with each step it grew harder.

He held the jars cupped to his chest while his nerves screamed at every shadow that flitted across the dome. Especially once they began to pause on top and the plink, plink, plink of tapping grew more insistent until even Marge started to look a bit nervous.

Added to
that
fear was the ominous groaning of the surrounding rubble that sounded like it was about to cave in at any moment. With each step, Dave's hands itched for a cigarette. He longed to reach for the crumpled packet still in his pocket. However, somehow, he didn't think Marge would be impressed if he did. If she wouldn't let him smoke in her house or car, he sincerely doubted she would in the small bubble that surrounded them.

They moved forward, squeezing through a narrow gap that at last, mercifully, signalled the end of the spider web above them. The black shadows fled before them as Marge twisted her fist and the shield elongated to allow them passage, protruding out to reveal that more of the tarmac ahead had been mulched and several trenches dug, baring the pipes that crisscrossed beneath the road. Most had been severed and twisted beyond repair.

At least to the left of the torn up road, another area appeared that was relatively clear and the claustrophobia melted away as Marge led the way over, waving her hand about until the dome was a reasonable facsimile of its original state.

But it was instantly replaced again by unease at the mass of shadows that filled the strangely empty space.

A park?
Dave tried to divine what might have once stood in the spot. The clear area beneath the dome showed browned grass but beyond that the mantle of shadows lay too thick to garner any further clues. The bright flames made it difficult for his eyes to adjust like they had during the car trip.

Dave wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand that held a jar and was alarmed to find it shook wildly. He raised the other one up before his eyes and watched the blood in the jar frothing and leaving trails down the glass.

Come on, keep it together,
he told himself as something that was a mix between a giggle and a belch exited his mouth.

Why keep it together, Dave? This is all your fault, remember. You don't deserve to keep it together.
Naomi's barbed voice forced another of the strange hiccups from him.

'Oi. Davey-boy?' Marge's voice cut in and Dave managed to choke back a third hiccup.

He quickly dropped his hands down to his side when he noticed that Marge was staring intently at him.

'For fuck's sake, pay attention. Come on, I think the river's this way,' she said and pointed over to their right. 'See that, I think that's the bridge.' Dave squinted in the direction she indicated but he could only see blackness.

He started as the kid's hand wrapped around his slick forearm and almost threw it off until he looked down and saw the wide eyes and the trickling tears on the boy's cheeks.

He slipped the jar labelled bomb into his pocket – he wanted the shield one nice and close at hand – and wiped his palm on his sodden shirt before properly gripping the kid's hand. Then, side by side, they trailed Marge, who set the pace as they moved across the clear area to where more burning and demolished buildings lay.

It only took a minute for the first taps to begin. By the time they'd moved ten steps into the area, shadows covered more of the shield than not and forced Marge to slow their pace. Dave told himself it was
only
due to the lack of visibility but couldn't quite convince himself of that fact. As soon as the first tapping had started he'd seen Marge physically wilt as though it wasn't the shield the things were pushing down on but the old lady herself. Her reliance on her cane grew with every step.

Dave felt grateful that he couldn't see the old lady's face as they continued on. He couldn't help thinking that it was gradually pulling taut across her skull. Unfortunately, he couldn't ignore the occasional grunt she let out. Each one had him thinking it was the end. That she would collapse and writhe on the ground, the shield would melt away and as she withered before his eyes, the things would rush in and shred him.

He tried his best not to picture it but the voices were there whispering over and over how it would be
exactly
what he deserved.

They trudged on a few more minutes while the light inside the dome grew dimmer and dimmer. More and more of the creatures started to hitch a ride on board and the tapping became a constant tattoo that Dave tried his best to block out.

'Shit!' Marge abruptly hissed and then stopped dead.

'What?' Dave asked. Then, when she didn't immediately answer, he repeated his question in a higher, far more panicky voice, 'WHAT!'

'Can't see fucking shit,' Marge coughed and Dave was horrified to hear how exhausted she sounded. She turned and he squinted through the gloom, trying to see if maintaining the shield had started to take its toll on her. The darkness had grown too thick for him to be certain, but he could see deeper shadows around her eyes and mouth. 'I think they might be on to us, what do you reckon?' Marge coughed again and barked a laugh. 'Shit, I was really hoping I wouldn't have to do this but, hey, I don't think I really have to worry about drawing more attention at this point, what do you reckon?'

Dave's voice consisted of little more than a squeak now.

'What didn't you want to do?'

Once more he had to repeat it a second time before he got a response from Marge.

'Shut up and fucking listen.' She moved in closer and hunched down in front of Will. Dave winced when he caught a clearer view of her face. He saw that some changes had definitely taken effect. It wasn't just his imagination either, he knew because of the way Will whimpered and gripped his hand tighter. 'There's going to be a really bright flash of light so I need you to close your eyes. Squeeze them shut nice and tight. Can you do that for me, Will? Yep that's the way. Now, cover them with your hands too.' The kid's hand slipped from Dave's. 'That's the way. Now you promise me no peeking, yeah? Good, because as soon as I am done, I will call for you, and as soon as you hear me call I want you to run, okay? Can you do that for me too, Will? Me and David will be running too so just follow us but first, it is important that you keep your eyes closed... Good kid...'

Marge ruffled Will's hair and then stood up and returned to the centre of the dome. 'If you want to keep your twenty-twenty vision, you'd best fucking follow suit,' she added to Dave in a far less friendly tone and once more raised her hands above her head.

Dave obeyed.

In the complete dark his breath sounded harsh while a long second passed.  Then another. And another.

He was on the verge of opening his eyes to see if everything was alright when he felt a surge of something ripple through the air. There was a bright flash, strong enough to be seen even with his eyes squeezed shut and an extra protective hand over the top. If he hadn't followed Marge's advice he imagined he'd be reeling on the ground right about now, his eyeballs seared from his skull.

Oh fuck. What if she's dead?
Dave's mind immediately went to work envisioning the worst. The flash wasn't immediately followed by Marge's command to run and panic clawed at his chest.
Fuck! What if she's keeled over and I am just standing here like a dumb fuck with my eyes closed while the things race in to take care of business.

That thought was enough to overcome any of Dave's other concerns. His eyes sprang open. Just in time for Marge to reel in close and croak, 'Run,' in his face.

The brief glimpse was enough to let Dave know whatever she'd done had taken its toll. She looked like she'd aged about twenty years in a heartbeat but, as she dropped her cane, she still managed to move with startling speed. She turned and darted across the suddenly clear area.

Dave blinked a few times, taking it all in. The shadows were momentarily vanquished, clearing the area around them. Dave could now see that they were in a park area that was bordered by rubble. There were flames ahead but they were nowhere near as strong as the ones that lay behind them. Marge was heading for the area to their right where a hint of tarmac was visible through an arch formed by toppled trees and street lamps.

Beyond the arch another wasteland of destruction awaited and, at first, Dave was confused as to why they were heading that way. He looked up to the side and he saw why. About twenty metres to his left lay the Murray River, its brown water already starting to be infused with black shadows once more. And snaking above them about fifty metres further down was a bridge that spanned its length, leading to more fires on the far side.

He looked from that back down to the kid and then realised that Will was doing a far better job of obeying the old lady's directions than he was. The boy stumbled, hot on her heels and they had a ten metre start on him.

He decided to put a hold on further sightseeing until a more opportune moment. He set off after Marge, his tired body taking a few steps to coordinate enough for him to move with any form of pace. He caught up with them just as Marge squeezed through the arch and turned for a glance back while she waited for Will to follow suit.

The black tide swept across the park in his wake, dousing it in shadows once more until Dave had no idea exactly where the grass ended and the river began. The sight had him scampering through after Marge, hurrying Will in front of him with a hand to the back. They emerged onto a tar footpath that snaked its way up a steep embankment, crisscrossing up stepped lines of cinderblock retaining walls. Though it was only a brief glimpse Dave got before the shadows swamped in again, drowning everything except the small circle beneath the dome in their darkness.

At least this time they seemed to avoid the dome itself, once more flowing around it like a river.