Chaos Walking: The Complete Trilogy (48 page)

She don’t speak for a long time, just makes little moaning sounds in her throat, and I remember just after I killed the Spackle, how I could feel the crunch running down my arm, how I could keep seeing his blood, how I saw him die again and again.

How I do still.

(But I woulda.)

(I was ready.)

(But the knife is gone.)

“Killing someone ain’t nothing like it is in stories,” I say into the top of her head. “Ain’t nothing at all.”

(But I woulda.)

She’s still shaking and we’re still right next to a raging, roaring waterfall and the sun’s higher in the sky and there’s less light in the church and we’re wet and bloody and bloody and wet.

And cold and shaking.

“Come on,” I say, making to stand. “First thing we need to do is get dry, okay?”

I get her to her feet. I go get the bag, still on the floor twixt two pews and go back to her and hold out my hand.

“The sun is up,” I say. “It’ll be warm outside.”

She looks at my hand for a minute before taking it.

But she takes it.

We make our way round the pulpit, unable to keep from looking where Aaron was, his blood already washed away by the spray.

(I woulda done it.)

(But the knife.)

I can feel my hand shaking in hers and I don’t know which one of us it is.

We get to the steps and it’s halfway up that she first speaks.

“I feel sick,” she says.

“I know,” I say.

And we stop and she leans closer to the waterfall and is sick.

A lot.

I guess this it what happens when you kill someone in real life.

She leans forward, her hair wet and tangled down. She spits.

But she don’t look up.

“I couldn’t let you,” she says. “He would have won.”

“I woulda done it,” I say.

“I know,” she says, into her hair, into the falls. “That’s why I did it.”

I let out a breath. “You shoulda let me.”

“No.” She looks up from being crouched over. “I
couldn’t
let you.” She wipes her mouth and coughs again. “But it’s not just that.”

“What then?” I say.

She looks into my eyes. Her own are wide and they’re bloodshot from the barfing.

And they’re older than they used to be.

“I
wanted
to, Todd,” she says, her forehead creasing. “I
wanted
to do it. I
wanted
to kill him.” She puts her hands to her face. “Oh my God,” she breathes. “Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God.”

“Stop it,” I say, taking her arms and pulling her hands away. “Stop it. He was evil. He was
crazy
evil–”

“I know!” she shouts. “But I keep seeing him. I keep seeing the knife going into his–”

“Yeah, okay, you wanted to,” I stop her before she gets worse. “So what? So did
I.
But he
made
you want to. He made it so it was him or us. That’s why he was evil. Not what you did or what I did, what
he
did, okay?”

She looks up at me. “He did just what he promised,” she says, her voice a little quieter. “He made me fall.”

She moans again and clamps her hands over her mouth, her eyes welling up.

“No,” I say strongly. “No, see, here’s the thing, here’s what I think, okay?”

I look up to the water and the tunnel and I don’t know what I think but she’s there and I can see it and I don’t know what she’s thinking but
I know what she’s thinking
and I can see her and she’s teetering on the edge and she’s looking at me and she’s asking me to save her.

Save her like she saved me.

“Here’s what I think,” I say and my voice is stronger and thoughts are coming, thoughts that trickle into my Noise like whispers of the truth. “I think maybe
everybody
falls,” I say. “I think maybe we all do. And I don’t think that’s the asking.”

I pull on her arms gently to make sure she’s listening.

“I think the asking is whether we get back up again.”

And the water’s rushing by and we’re shaking from the cold and everything else and she stares at me and I wait and I hope.

And I see her step back from the edge.

I see her come back to me.

“Todd,” she says and it ain’t an asking.

It’s just my name.

It’s who I am.

“Come on,” I say. “Haven’s waiting.”

I take her hand again and we make our way up the rest of the steps and back to the flatter part of the ledge, following the curves out from the centre, steadying ourselves again on the slippery stones. The jump back to the embankment is harder this time cuz we’re so wet and weak but I take a running go at it and then catch Viola as she comes tumbling after me.

And we’re in sunlight.

We breathe it in for a good long while, getting the wettest of the wet off of us before we gather up and climb the little embankment, pushing ourselves thru the scrub to the trail and back to the road.

We look down the hill, down the zigzag trail.

It’s still there. Haven’s still there.

“Last bit,” I say.

Viola rubs her arms to dry herself a little more. She squints at me, looking close. “You get hit in the face a lot, you know that?”

I bring my fingers up. My eye is starting to swell some and I notice a gap on the side of my mouth where I lost a few teeth.

“Thanks,” I say. “It wasn’t hurting till you said that.”

“Sorry.” She smiles a little and puts her hand up to the back of her own head and winces.

“How’s yers?” I ask.

“Sore,” she says, “but I’ll live.”

“Yer indestructible, you,” I say.

She smiles again.

And then there’s a weird
zipSNICK
sound in the air and Viola lets out a little gasp, a little
oh
sound.

We look each other in the eyes for a second, in the sunshine, both of us surprised but not sure why.

And then I follow her glance down her front.

There’s blood on her shirt.

Her own blood.

New
blood.

Pouring out a little hole just to the right of her belly button.

She touches the blood and holds up her fingers.

“Todd?” she says.

And then she falls forward.

I catch her, stumbling back a bit from the weight.

And I look up behind her.

Up to the clifftop, right where the road begins.

Mr Prentiss Jr.

On horseback.

Hand outstretched.

Holding a pistol.

“Todd?” Viola says against my chest. “I think someone
shot
me, Todd.”

There are no words.

No words in my head or my Noise.

Mr Prentiss Jr kicks his horse and edges him down the road towards us.

Pistol still pointed.

There’s nowhere to run.

And I don’t got my knife.

The world unfolds as clear and as slow as the worst pain, Viola starting to pant heavy against me, Mr Prentiss Jr riding down the road, and my Noise rising with the knowledge that we’re finished, that there’s no way out this time, that if the world wants you, it’s gonna keep on coming till it gets you.

And who am I that can fix it? Who am I that can change this if the world wants it so badly? Who am I to stop the end of the world if it keeps on coming?

“I think she wants you
bad,
Todd,” Mr Prentiss Jr sneers.

I clench my teeth.

My Noise rises red and purple.

I’m Todd bloody Hewitt.

That’s who I effing well am.

I look him right in the eye, sending my Noise straight for him, and I spit out in a rasp, “I’ll thank you to call me
Mr Hewitt.
”

Mr Prentiss Jr flinches, actually
flinches
a little and pulls his reins involuntarily, making his horse rear up for a second.

“Come on, now,” he says, his voice slightly less sure.

And he knows we both can hear it.

“Hands up,” he says. “I’m taking you to my father.”

And I do the most amazing thing.

The most amazing thing I ever did.

I ignore him.

I kneel Viola down to the dirt road.

“It burns, Todd,” she says, her voice low.

I set her down and drop the bag and slip my shirt off my back, crumpling it up and holding it against the bullet hole. “You hold that tight, you hear me?” I say, my anger rising like lava. “This won’t take a second.”

I look up at
Davy
Prentiss.

“Get up,” he says, his horse still jumpy and edgy from the heat coming off me. “I ain’t telling you twice, Todd.”

I stand.

I step forward.

“I said put yer hands up,” Davy says, his horse whinnying and bluffing and clopping from foot to foot.

I march towards him.

Faster.

Till I’m running.

“I’ll shoot you!” Davy shouts, waving the gun, trying to control his horse which is sending
Charge! Charge!
all over the place in its Noise.

“No, you won’t!” I yell, running right up to the horse’s head and sending a crash of Noise right at it.

SNAKE!

The horse rears up on its back legs.

“Goddammit, Todd!” Davy yells, wheeling and whirling, trying to control his horse with the one hand that’s not holding the pistol.

I jump in, slap the horse’s front quarters and jump back. The horse whinnies and rears up again.

“Yer a dead man!” Davy shouts, going in a full circle with the horse jumping and rearing.

“Yer
half
right,” I say.

And I’m seeing my chance–

The horse neighs loudly and shakes its head back and forth–

I wait–

Davy pulls on the reins–

I dodge–

I wait–

“Effing horse!”
Davy shouts–

He tries to jerk the reins again–

The horse is twisting round one more time–

I wait–

The horse brings Davy round to me, careening him low in the saddle–

And there’s my chance–

My fist is back and waiting–

BOOM!

I catch him cross the face like a hammer falling–

I swear I feel his nose break under my fist–

He calls out in pain and falls from the saddle–

Dropping the pistol in the dust–

I jump back–

Davy’s foot catches in the stirrup–

The horse rears round again–

I smack its hindquarters as hard as I can–

And the horse has had enough.

It charges back up the hill, back up the road, Davy’s foot still caught, making him bounce hard against rocks and dirt as he’s dragged, fast, up the incline–

The pistol’s in the dust–

I move for it–

“Todd?” I hear.

And there’s no time.

There’s no time at all.

Without hardly thinking, I leave the pistol and I run back down to Viola at the edge of the scrub.

“I think I’m dying, Todd,” she says.

“Yer not dying,” I say, getting an arm under her shoulders and another under her knees.

“I’m cold.”

“Yer
not
effing dying!
” I say. “Not today!”

And I stand, with her in my arms, and I’m at the top of the zigzag that goes down into Haven.

And that’s not going to be fast enough.

I plunge straight down. Straight down thru the scrub.

“Come on!” I say out loud as my Noise forgets itself and all there is in the universe is my legs moving.

Come on!

I run.

Thru scrub–

And across road–

Thru more scrub–

Across road again as it doubles back–

Down and down–

Kicking up clods of earth and jumping over bushes–

Stumbling over roots–

Come on.

“Hang on,” I say to Viola. “You hang on, you hear me?”

Viola grunts every time we land hard–

But that means she’s still breathing.

Down–

And down–

Come on.

Please.

I skid on some bracken–

But I do not fall–

Road and scrub–

My legs aching at the steepness–

Scrub and road–

Down–

Please
–

“Todd?”

“Hang on!”

I reach the bottom of the hill and I hit it running.

She’s so light in my arms.

So light.

I run to where the road rejoins the river, the road into Haven, trees springing up again all around us, the river rushing on.

“Hang on!” I say again, running down the road, fast as my feet will carry me.

Come on.

Please.

Round curves and corners–

Under trees and by the riverbank–

Up ahead I see the battlement I spotted with the binos from the hill above, huge wooden Xs piled up in a long row out to either side with an opening across the road.

“HELP!” I’m shouting as we come to it. “HELP US!”

I run.

Come on.

“I don’t think I can–” Viola says, her voice breathless.

“Yes you CAN!” I shout. “Don’t you DARE give up!”

I run.

The battlement’s coming–

But there’s no one.

There’s no one there.

I run thru the opening on the road and to the other side.

I stop long enough to take a turn round.

There’s
no one.

“Todd?”

“We’re almost there,” I say.

“I’m losing it, Todd–”

And her head rolls back.

“No, yer NOT!” I shout at her face. “You WAKE UP, Viola Eade! You keep yer ruddy eyes open.”

And she tries. I see her try.

And her eyes open, only a little, but open.

And I run again as fast as I can.

And I’m shouting “HELP!” as I go.

“HELP!”

Please.

“HELP!”

And her breath is starting to gasp.

“HELP US!”

Please no.

And I’m not seeing NO ONE.

The houses I pass are shut up and empty. The road turns from dirt to paved and still no one out and about.

“HELP!”

My feet slam against the pavement–