Garbage Man (31 page)

Jimmy weighed nothing and he popped onto the roof like

Peter Pan.

‘Go up to the apex.
Carefully
, Jimmy.'

Ray waited, sword drawn again, for the last creature to reach the top step of the wall. It extended concertinaed arms to grip the roof tiles and Ray slashed them off. The thing screamed but from underneath its body, two more arms reached up. These were larger - human arms with curtain hook fingers on one side and an edging spade blade on the other. Ray stood back this time and allowed the creature to get a purchase with its hooks. Seeing a pair of arms which probably belonged to someone in this very street, he couldn't bring himself to damage them. The landfill creature was fast and once its body was on the roof it launched itself at Ray. The loss of two arms had done nothing to deter it. Ray let it come forward and merely held the katana in front of himself. The thing gored itself on the blade in its eagerness to have him and then, finally, something more important damaged within, it stopped. Ray drew the blade out of it and the dead thing slid back to the edge of the roof before falling into the garden below.

At the apex, Jimmy was looking down at his feet. Delilah had an arm around him. Ray shot her a look that said, ‘you've changed your tune' and she gave him a barely perceptible shrug in return. When he reached them the kid said,

‘Th . . . thanks, mister.'

‘I'm not old enough to be a mister. My name's Ray. This is Delilah. Now you can come with us to the college but you're going to have to pull your weight, understand?'

The kid nodded.

‘I'll do my best.'

‘Let's hope that's good enough.'

Ray led the way the end of the terrace of houses. He'd hoped for the last wall in the row to be usable as a way down to the street level but he'd completely misjudged its height. It was a challenging drop from the roof to the top of the wall and a dangerous one from there to the ground. He peered over the gable end of the last house, following the guttering. There was a black downpipe, not plastic but cast iron. It was bracketed to the bricks and looked secure. Even if it wasn't, it was their best and safest escape. The problem was it led straight down to the street. Ray had hoped to get into the garden and make a run for it from there when they were all ready. As it was, they'd be arriving one at a time at street level in plain view of every creature nearby. He scanned the distance between the bottom of the down pipe and the row of shops they planned to loot on the way to the college. It was fairly clear at the moment. If they were fast they could dodge most of the landfill creatures in their path - none of them looked particularly large or agile. Between the shops and the expanse of parkland leading to the college there were far less creatures visible.

He turned back to Delilah and Jimmy.

‘It's this pipe or it's nothing. I'll go first and keep things clear at street level. Come down one at a time or the pipe may not hold. Jimmy, you follow me, I'll need your help at the bottom.' He kissed Delilah hard and fast. ‘I'll see you down there.'

It wasn't a graceful descent. Between each bracket the pipe had no hand holds. It was a matter of stopping himself sliding so fast it became a fall. About two thirds of the way down, before he was ready to jump, Ray lost his grip. He fell and landed awkwardly, jarring his ankle before landing on his arse in the road. He jumped up quickly testing the injury. He'd twisted it badly enough to make him swear, not badly enough to stop him walking. A sweat broke on his face just thinking about what would happen if he couldn't run. As soon as he hit the ground, creatures turned and made their way in his direction. He drew the katana, testing his ankle again and again. Running was going to be a problem.

At the top of the pipe, Jimmy struggled just to get his legs over the edge of the roof. The kid was obviously frightened of heights. Ray didn't care.

‘Get your arse in gear, Jimmy.'

A ragged semicircle of monstrous garbage creatures had already formed before Jimmy was a quarter of the way down. Ray turned to face the interlopers.
What am I waiting for?
He went out to them, choosing the largest and most dangerous looking ones first and wielding his Japanese blade with as little force as possible. It was a lot heavier than he'd imagined it would be. There were dozens of them and he needed to conserve his strength. From time to time he glanced back to assess Jimmy's ‘progress'. It was like a watching a slug cross a garden path.

‘Come on, Jimmy! You're making it worse for all of us. Just fucking slide down.'

The creatures he'd killed formed a protective crust around them. The ones still approaching had to crawl over it, bringing them nearer to his sword. Even so, keeping the gaps plugged was like playing Tetris on level nine. Every time he moved around the perimeter his ankle expanded with pain.

Finally he heard Jimmy hit the pavement behind him. Delilah was already on her way down.

‘Come here,' said Ray. ‘When you see one of these bastards get near the edge of this ring, slash 'em. Got it?'

The kid nodded, knuckles white around the handle of his steak knife.

‘What are you waiting for? There's one right there.' Jimmy looked at the small creature scaling the growing hump of its now inanimate brethren. It mewled like a starving kitten. He didn't move. The thing reached the top of the mound and made faster progress down their side of it. It hoisted itself along on the thrashing tails of dogs and cats.

‘Jimmy, do it.'

‘I . . . I've never killed anything before.'

‘Even if you waste a thousand of them you still won't have killed anything. They're not living like you and me.'

‘I know but . . .'

Delilah arrived behind them having slid down the pipe like a fireman.

‘Forget it, Jimmy,' said Ray. ‘Time to go.'

Ray found the least busy part of the ring of trash, took a run up and leapt over. On landing he fell to one knee. Delilah was right behind him.

‘What's the matter, babe?'

‘I'm okay. Just twisted my ankle a bit.'

Jimmy still hadn't joined them. Creatures had breached the wall of rubbish and were closing in on him. He looked at Ray and Delilah with desperate eyes. It was obvious that in the greatest part of his mind, he didn't believe in himself. Or perhaps he didn't believe he was worthy of surviving. Whatever it was, the instinct that was driving Ray and Delilah had not surfaced in him. Jimmy was thinking instead of acting. Ray beckoned him frantically.

‘Jump them, Jimmy. For fuck's sake. Do it now or they're going to dismantle you for spares.'

The idea must have affected the kid. He took a run up and leapt the trash wall like a hurdler. Then he stopped to look back, barely able to take in that he'd come this far.

‘Right,' said Ray. ‘Let's see if we can get into that outdoor shop.'

***

When Mr. Smithfield saw the wall of garbage strung across the road he knew there was only one course of action.

‘Belt up and hold on.'

Aggie and his wife braced their arms against the front seats. Pamela cried out:

‘Oh God, Richard.'

‘I know.'

It was the first time he'd ever put the accelerator to the floor. The Volvo responded with enthusiasm, pushing him back into the seat. He resisted, leaned forwards, kept his eyes open. If there was a weak point in the swathe of living trash up ahead, he couldn't see it. It was a straight section of road beyond; plenty of time to correct and slow down after the impact. If they made it through. He looked at the speedo. Climbing towards ninety already. Was that fast enough?

They hit the rubbish, tore through it. Rumbles, snaps and louder impacts vibrated up through the foot wells. The Volvo shimmied on the uneven surfaces, slithered on unnameable substances but stayed straight. Richard Smithfield, elbows locked, jaw vicelike, prayed. They cleared the roadblock and the car settled down onto smooth tarmac. White-faced and rigid in the back seats, Aggie and her mother cried hesitant tears of relief.

Richard was laughing in tiny, machinegun bursts.

‘Hu hu hu hu . . . hu hu . . . hu hu hu.'

The road curved and he realised he was doing a ton. He touched the brakes as gently as he could. The bend sharpened.

‘Darling, look ou -'

Something popped and the car sank on the front passenger side. Richard hissed through gritted teeth.

‘Shit.'

Not knowing what to do, he stepped harder on the brakes. The car began its spin, no longer following the road.

Full brake. Hand brake.

Three interwoven trails of black rubber and something like a curl of stripped black hide.

Whirligig G-force.

The world smearing to green all around.

For all of them an awareness of the car moving beyond its proper environment.

Flying briefly, peacefully.

Tearing and scratching as the Volvo erased a section of hedge.

Blackout.

22

They set off but Ray couldn't run. Jimmy and Delilah tried to put their arms around him and help him along.

‘I'm fine. I can walk fast. I just can't run yet. I need a couple of minutes off the pitch and then I'll be fine. Come on, we've got to keep moving.'

They reached the front of the outdoor shop quickly and safely. Someone had half closed the shutters but hadn't finished the job. Ray expected the main door to be locked but it wasn't. There was no need to smash the display window. They all just ducked under the shutter, pushed on the door and walked in. Ray locked them in for safety.

It was gloomy inside but there was enough light to see by. It seemed safer not to use the electricity and draw attention to themselves. Ray went to the rucksack display.

‘Why don't we ditch your old backpack and get some nice new ones, D?'

‘Good idea.'

‘Pink? Light blue?'

She didn't answer.

‘Black it is, then.'

Ray started filling their backpacks with anything he thought might come in handy.

‘What are you doing?' asked Jimmy.

‘Stocking up. Being prepared.'

‘You're stealing,' said the kid.

Ray stopped and turned to Jimmy.

‘Are you serious?'

‘Well, it's not right, is it?'

‘Let me explain something to you, Jimmy. Law and order have succumbed to the vicissitudes of survival. Primal urges are to be encouraged.'

‘Come again?'

‘We're trying to stay alive. Nothing else matters now.'

‘I think the owner of this shop might take a different view.'

‘That's my point, Jimmy, we're not thinking that way any more. I'd have thought the owner of this shop is probably dead by now. Either that or trying to escape. I don't think he'll miss a few items.'

‘I'm not going to be drawn into criminal activities.' Ray and Delilah exchanged a glance.

‘What?' said Jimmy.

‘If you don't stop living by the rules, you're going to stop living. At least find something better than that stupid bloody steak knife.'

Jimmy saw the penknife display - all the items locked behind glass - and had a close look. He put the steak knife down and, for the first time since he'd escaped from his bedsit, Ray saw the kid smile.

‘You might want something a bit . . . bigger . . . than a Swiss army knife,' said Ray. ‘You know, so you can stay out of reach.'

Jimmy looked disappointed and wandered away towards the darker part of the shop.

‘Alright. Don't listen to me, just take whatever you think you can use.'

***

Aggie comes round to the screech of a disk cutter chewing through steel panelling. She smells the scorched rubber, engine oil and petrol.

There's been an accident. Yes.

They were running away but they'd made it. They were free.

Images queue up in the wrong order.

The firemen are cutting someone out of the car. Her father or . . .

Please, God, no. Not Mum. Let them be alright. Let them be alive.

She can't understand why she suddenly cares about them. They are the most precious things in the world to her. She's weeping, realising what a stupid, deluded bitch she's been. She doesn't want this. She doesn't need them to be hurt for her to admit to herself she loves them. Through the rising haze of her own pain, she resolves to be a better, more loving daughter.

Oh, God, please don't let them be dead. Please, please, no.

Wait, Aggie. Think. Don't be stupid. They cut people out because they're still alive.

Yes. Yes. They're alive. They're both alive.

She tries to call out but there's no breath in her. Feels like someone's forced a lead football right through her guts. Can't breathe. The world shrinks again.

That's when she notices she's not in the car any more. On her back. In the grass. Indifferent sky far above. Vision contracting as she suffocates.

Suddenly something releases inside and she draws in a huge breath.

It hurts very much but the sky expands again.

She is not dying.

‘Mum?'

It's a whisper.

‘Mum? Dad?'

The steel disc ceases to whine. Metal is wrenched apart. The firemen are setting her parents free from the wreckage.

The paramedics will help them.

She turns her head towards the sounds. Just a glimpse of them will be enough until the paramedics come to attend to her. A vision to keep her going through the pain. Strength transmitted by the sight of her begetters.

She sees no emergency service personnel. Only two monsters, each half the size of the car. One towers over her father. The other over her mother. She can't tell if her parents are alive. Neither of them is moving but they appear to be uninjured by the impact. Her instinct is to scream. She overrides it.

Tools and instruments open from the aberrant bodies of the creatures. Facsimiles of hands - too many hands - arrange the adults with finicky precision. On their backs, to attention, like sleeping guardsmen. Faster than Aggie's eyes can follow, blades split her parents' clothes open and mechanical fingers sweep them away. She is embarrassed to see them this way. Then embarrassed for them. Now nauseous with anticipation of what may follow. This would be the time either to save them or run away. She tests her body's ability to move. Hands and ankles move but she winces; everything works, everything hurts. Worst of all is the pain in her chest and solar plexus. Something there is adrift, grinding against itself. She uses her arms to push herself up and the pain makes her vomit into her own lap. She keeps the spasms as quiet as she can, squeegees away mucus from her chin with her fingers and wipes them in the grass. The monsters don't seem to have noticed her. They're busy about their work.