The Storm (29 page)

She wasn’t sure why she had brought them back here, to Hemmingway. It was home, she guessed, the only one she had now. The only one she needed. It felt like centuries ago when she and Cal had driven into this car park, a lifetime ago when they had driven out again. It felt as though she had spent years here, by the sea, in the sun, with Cal and Brick and Adam and the others. But years – and seconds, minutes, hours, days – they were different now. Time was a broken thing.

Home. She had been happy here. Not all the time, of course. She had been sick and scared and angry too, at Rilke and Brick and all the ferals and most of all at the man in the storm. But to have found even a little bit of happiness in the middle of all that was like when the sun breaks through the heaviest of clouds, painting the world gold. Yes, she had been happy here. She would always be happy here.

They could be happy here too, the angels. Why did they have to go back to where they came from just because their job was done? It wasn’t as though they were machines ready to be stuffed back in the cupboard. She remembered thinking they were like robots, soulless weapons to be used in the war against the beast. But that was wrong. They were more like babies learning to use their emotions for the first time, discovering all the wonderful things that they could feel. They didn’t have any of their own, she was pretty sure about that, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t feel what she was feeling.

And who would want to go back to a horrid dark empty place for ever if they could stay here and have laughter and love and all the nice things? Even as she thought it she felt her angel laugh, that tuning-fork ring filling the air, so unlike human laughter and yet so unmistakable. It made her giggle too.

What do you mean?
Cal asked.
What do you have to do?

She smiled at him again, looking at the angel that sat inside his soul. She still didn’t truly understand what they were, or where they came from. How could she? These things were older than time, older than the universe. They’d been here forever, always existing. So had the man in the storm. He
was
the forever, the ageless, empty aeons. It made her brain hurt just trying to think about it, so she stopped. None of it mattered, not now they’d found a home. She was tired, the angels were tired. It was time to rest.

She made her way to Brick, the boy squirming in his suit of fire. He was such a
baby.

Brick,
she said. He ignored her, his arms wheeling as if he could somehow pull himself out of his own body.
Brick!
she said again, touching his shoulder. He flinched, glaring up at her.

Just get it out!
he said.

I want you to listen to me,
she replied.
I want you to be less angry. And less selfish too.
He started to argue but there must have been something in her expression that stopped him.
Everything is easier when you’re nice, and it doesn’t take much, does it? It doesn’t cost anything.

What are you talking about?
he said.
It’s got nothing to do with you, Daisy.

Just try,
she said.
You think everyone hates you, but that’s not true. Don’t you see, we love you, Brick. We always will. Be nice, promise me.

His mouth dropped open and he nodded slowly. She giggled again – the laughter was so easy, now, for her and her angel – then she moved her hand to his chest, pushing her fingers into the fire. It was like putting down a leaf in front of a ladybird, watching it crawl on. Brick’s fire shot out with enough force to catapult him backwards, rolling him across the car park. It ebbed along her arm, making its way towards the sound of bells that rang from the very centre of her. She felt the moment where it joined her angel, the two of them sitting in her chest, chiming so hard her teeth rattled.

Brick cried out, writhing on the sandy concrete where he’d landed, thirty metres or so away. He stared back at her with his own wide, wet, human eyes.

You’re
human now, remember. You can’t come near me.

He stood, but stayed where he was.

‘What did you do?’ he croaked, his words weak and stuttered, as though this was the first time he had spoken.

Daisy turned to Howie, who backed away into the wreckage of the toilets. He held his hands up to her.

Wait, what if I want to keep mine?
he said.

It will kill you, sooner or later,
she replied.
Then it will die too.

But what about you?

I’m offering them something else, I think,
she said, floating to him, reaching into his chest.
I wish I’d had time to get to know you.

His angel came willingly, burning up her arm and into her soul. The force of it sent Howie spinning back almost to the tree line. After a second or two he lifted his head, putting his hands to his ears. It was no wonder, the hum emanating from her was deafening, three angel hearts beating in the same place. She felt so cold now, and heavy too. But she couldn’t stop. She looked at Adam, smiled at him.

Are you ready?
she asked him.

But I want to stay with you,
he replied, and it was so good to hear his voice. She floated to him, pulling him to her, feeling that same electric charge build up between them.

I’ll always be here,
she said.
I need you to be a brave boy, Adam. I need you to be strong. Promise me you’ll never be afraid to use your voice again, okay?

She let him go and he blinked up at her with his burning eyes.

Promise me.

I do, I promise.

This doesn’t hurt.

She pressed her fingers to his chest, his angel freeing itself faster than the others. It seared a trail along her skin, diving into her. It was like she’d eaten too much, like she was about to pop. The sudden current of energy swept Adam away, depositing him softly at Brick’s feet. The bigger boy bent down, picked him up, holding him tight when he tried to run towards her again.

She almost wasn’t able to turn to face Cal, her body too heavy, too full of ice and fire.

How did you know it wouldn’t kill you?
he asked.
How did you know any of this?

I didn’t,
she replied.
But they did.

What happens now?

She shrugged.
We live.

She straightened her arm, reaching for his chest, but he hovered away.

Thank you,
he said.
We would never have made it without you.

I know,
she said, giggling again.
Promise me you’ll look after Adam. Never let him go.

Cal looked over, smiled at the boy.

Sure, I’ll try, Dais, but I don’t know what will happen—

Cal . . .

Okay, sure, I promise. I’ll never let him go.

She tried again, but he backed away even more.

I don’t know what else to say,
he said.

Then don’t say anything.
She reached out a fourth time, her fingers pushing into his chest. There was a flash, like an electric shock, a bolt of pure energy crackling into her body. Cal flew back, rolling through the dirt. When he looked up his face was covered in ash. He looked like a ghost, and that just made her laugh even harder. The angels laughed too. Her body was hollow and filled with chimes. The hum coming off her sounded loud enough to split the earth.

‘Daisy?’ somebody shouted, but she could barely hear them. She couldn’t see very well, either, the inferno blazing from her so brightly that even her angel’s eyes were struggling. It was too much, the world trembling to hold her, the skin of reality stretching to fit her in. The angels were agitated, she could feel them inside her thoughts, her blood, her soul. It felt as if she was about to blow and take the whole universe with her.

She blinked, seeing Cal and Brick and Adam through the haze, looking so small, so human. She remembered the first time she had met them – Cal, when he saved her, in the car, telling her about the grumpy lady like she’d never heard of a sat nav before; Adam, when he had arrived with the others, so quiet, so afraid, until they’d ridden the horses of the carousel, Angie and Geoffrey and Wonky-Butt the Wonder Horse, and his face had opened up like a flower; and Brick, poor, sad, angry Brick who’d met them right here on this very spot, who’d taken them to Fursville, whose laughter was like a bird’s when he had finally forgotten to be mad at the world. How was it possible to love people so much, so
hard
?

You should go,
she said.
I think something is about to happen.

‘Daisy no, don’t leave!’ said Adam. He started towards her but Cal held him back.

‘Goodbye, Daisy,’ Cal said. He smiled at her.

It’s not such a bad way to leave,
Daisy thought.
Looking at a smile.

She offered him one back, turning away before her laughter could become tears. She’d see them again, she was sure of it. Maybe not in the same way as before, but that was okay. This wasn’t the end. She drifted across the dunes, the world peeling open at her feet, the sea hissing as she flew over it. Even though she felt heavy she rose like a balloon, heading up into the brilliant blue. The movement of the angels was growing more frenzied, as though they were cats trapped together in a basket. She hushed them, but they didn’t understand. The thrum of their hearts was rising in pitch. How much longer did she have before the world simply couldn’t hold her any more? Hours? Minutes? Seconds?

But time is broken,
she said to herself.
It can never catch us.

She turned back and looked down, saw the boys making their way into the leafless trees. Beneath her the sea had been stripped away, the ground too, the energy that poured from her carving a crater in the earth. The air shook as it tried to escape, as if it knew what was coming. Time ground past, trying to snatch her up in its fingers, but she was too heavy for it now, it couldn’t carry her.

She held on until she couldn’t see them any more – Brick the last one to go, raising a trembling hand, his tears like crystals on his dirty face as he disappeared.
Go,
she told him.
Nothing bad will happen now
– then the universe broke beneath the weight of the angels.

They seemed to burn up inside her, an explosion that started in her soul, expanding outwards. It got as far as the edge of the forest before she reached out with her mind and took hold of time, pulling herself free. Something groaned, the noise like a giant foghorn in the centre of the world. Everything was shaking, reality threatening to come to pieces, the explosion desperate to finish what it had started. But she would not let go. The angels worked with her, holding on to the reins of time.

In her head she clung to that memory just as tightly, lying in her garden in the shade of the trees, watching beads of sunlight chase each other across the grass. She rested her head on her mum’s leg, smelling linen and dewberry. Her dad waved at her from inside the kitchen window, looking a hundred years younger than he had before, looking like himself again. She’d been so happy,
so
happy, and she would always be, because she never had to leave that garden, she never had to say goodbye. She would lie there with the breeze on her face, with her mum’s hand on her arm, with the neighbour’s cat weaving in and out of her feet, purring like a steam train, forever and ever and ever.

She laughed, and outside the world moved on without her. Slowly at first – she saw people there, down below, crowds of them – but quickly speeding up. Day became night became day became night. The faces changed, but she saw people she knew, Cal and Brick and Adam, moving too fast for her to see what they were doing. There was rain, and snow. The forest disappeared, replaced by buildings, then they too vanished, the coastline changing with every beat of her heart. But still she saw them, her friends, her brothers, standing there by the sea, watching her for the blink of an eye. Every time they appeared they seemed older, until they were grey and stooped, but she always knew them.

The world went on without her, years passing, decades, centuries, and she watched the land recede, the ocean rise. She saw cities in the sky, and rockets, she saw the sun grow big and red, all while that same laugh rang out of her, just a single breath that held all of time at bay. At some point she would have to let go, she knew, when the man in the storm appeared again, or something else like him. At some point the angels would pull their way free from her so they could fight another battle. But until then there was just the garden, and the sun, and her mum and dad –
I love you guys so, so much
– and a laughter that pealed out across the ages.

Brick couldn’t bear to leave her there alone, but what choice did he have? He could hear the sonic pulse of the angels inside her, growing all the time, as though she was about to explode.

‘We should go,’ said Cal, taking Adam by the hand and leading him away from the sea. The little kid resisted, trying to pull loose, but Cal was holding on to him. ‘Mate,’ he said to Brick. ‘Seriously, that doesn’t sound good.’

It didn’t look good, either. The world was coming apart around Daisy, the land and water boiling as she floated up into the sky. He could feel the tremble through his feet, the ground trying to shake itself to pieces. He could barely see the girl any more through the orb of fire that surrounded her. She looked like a bird in a burning cage.

‘I don’t want to go,’ said Adam, sobbing. ‘I want Daisy.’

‘She’s going to be fine,’ Cal said. ‘Can’t you hear her?’

Incredibly she was still laughing, the sound crystal clear, rising even above the hum of the angels. Cal bent down, slinging the boy over his shoulder. He started to run towards the treeline and Brick followed, that pulse chasing him, growling against his back. Howie had already vanished. Brick slipped on the ash, on the sandy concrete of the car park, so tired he could barely put one foot in front of the other. It felt as though he was learning how to use his body from scratch again, now that his angel was gone. He felt too light, too brittle, as if he might break into splinters at the slightest touch.

But it was a miracle he was moving at all. His angel must have healed the most serious wounds, it had patched him up from the inside.

He hobbled into the trees, looking back through the bare branches. Daisy hung over the sea, burning as brightly as the sun. The water steamed beneath her, freezing and then boiling, again and again, forming statues of ice that lasted just seconds before melting away. It was mesmerising, and he almost forgot himself in the kaleidoscopic wonder of it. He held out a hand to her, realising that he was crying. And even though he no longer had his angel he heard her voice in his head, as if she was standing right next to him, whispering in his ear.

Go. Nothing bad will happen now.

He stepped between the trees and the world behind him turned white and silent. A noiseless wave picked him up, carrying him through the air, so fast that he couldn’t even scream. Then he fell on to the soft, sandy ground, and life went dark.

He didn’t know how much later it was when he opened his eyes. He lay there, on his back, staring up at a sky that was halfway between day and night. His ears were ringing, as though he’d been at a concert all night, but beyond the annoying whine he could hear voices. He tried to sit up, feeling like every fibre of his being was bruised. Even his eyeballs were sore, his vision watery. He tilted his head to the side, blinking away the tears. Something was moving over there, maybe several somethings. He couldn’t be sure.

He pushed himself up on to one elbow, running his other hand across his eyes. When he looked again the shapes had solidified into figures, people, one running in his direction. A bolt of adrenalin rocked through his exhausted body.
The Fury.

It’s gone,
he tried to tell them, his mouth refusing to form the words.
The angel, it’s gone.

The shape thundered towards him and he clambered to his feet, managing one step before falling on his face. Were they screams he could hear? Choked, feral cries? After everything that had happened, after all he’d done to fight the man in the storm, was this how it was going to end? Teeth in his throat, fingernails in his eyes? He tried again but there was nothing left inside him. Hands grabbed him, rolling him over, the black hole of a mouth dropping towards him. He prayed it would be quick. It was the very least he deserved.

‘You okay?’

He almost couldn’t hear the words over the whine in his ears.

‘Mate? Can you hear me?’

Brick lay still, his heart trying to beat its way out of his chest. He blinked until the face above him came into focus.

‘Cal?’ Brick grunted. The other boy grinned, looking bruised and tired but otherwise intact.

‘You okay?’ Cal said again. Why did he keep asking? It was pretty bloody obvious that he wasn’t. Brick struggled to sit up, trying to recall how he’d got here. Everything in his head was white noise, but he remembered running with Cal and Adam, remembered Daisy floating out over the ocean. What had happened to her? Had she
exploded
? He grabbed hold of Cal’s arm, hauling himself to his feet.

‘Daisy,’ he said.
Please let her be okay, please don’t let her be dead.

‘She’s there,’ said Cal, pointing. Brick hung on to the other boy, the world spinning. He could have been standing in the middle of the desert. Only the sand here was a million different colours, and dead ahead was the ocean, so foamy somebody could have poured a thousand tonnes of detergent into it. The sun sat on the horizon, high over the water, but when Brick turned back around it also hung over Cal’s head. The impossibility of it made him reel.

‘You need to sit down,’ said Cal.

Brick shrugged himself free, staggering across the beach towards the first sun,
her
sun. There were more people ahead, silhouetted by the glow. He had to get closer before his watering eyes could identify them as Adam and Howie. They were both filthy, their clothes in tatters, but their angels had looked after them well, repairing the worst wounds before jumping ship. They were smiling.

‘Hey,’ said Howie, his voice like sandpaper. ‘You look like crap.’

Brick laughed, even though it hurt to do so. Howie was black and blue, his hair silver.

‘Don’t look so good yourself,’ he said. ‘You look like my granddad.’

‘He must be a very handsome man,’ said Howie, making Adam giggle.

Brick looked back towards the sun. It was forged of light, of colours he had never seen before, waves of energy shimmering back and forth over the surface. He couldn’t see anything inside it, but a crystal chime emanated from the sphere, the sound unmistakable.

‘She’s laughing,’ said Adam. ‘She’s happy.’

‘You think?’ Brick said. But the kid was right, there was no doubt about it. How many times had he heard that laugh, had it pulled him out of his anger, made him human again?

‘Daisy,’ he said, and the thought of her there, trapped inside that bubble of fire, made him angry. Why did it have to be her? She was just a little girl, it should have been someone else. She should have been allowed to go home, to live her life. It wasn’t fair, it just wasn’t—

He felt a hand on his shoulder, looked to see Cal there.

‘You made her a promise,’ he said.

Brick realised his fists were clenched, his nails digging into the flesh of his palms. He
had
promised her something, he’d promised not to be angry. But how the hell was he supposed to keep
that
?

‘Seriously, mate,’ said Cal, nodding out over the water. ‘You really want to risk her coming after you? She’ll fry your ass.’

He laughed again, despite himself, letting his body relax. The truth was he was just too tired to be angry. The deep breath he took was full of the smell of the sea, the smell of home. He could try, for Daisy. She had saved them, after all, time and time again. He owed her that much.

‘Fine,’ he said. ‘You’re looking at the new me, one chirpy arsehole coming right up.’

Cal laughed at him, and for a while they stood there, squinting into the brilliance of the second sun. It seemed impossible that less than a week ago he had sat on this very beach worrying about money, petrol, Lisa. How could so much change in such a small space of time? The thought of it made his legs shudder and he almost fell, Cal’s hands holding him up.

‘Hey!’ the voice came from behind them, and they all spun round together to see a man in a police uniform walking over the dunes. Brick took a step back, calculating the distance between them. Thirty metres.
Please don’t,
he thought.
Please don’t turn.
The man – not a cop, a fireman – was running now, pointing up at the new sun. ‘What are you guys doing?’

Twenty-five metres. Twenty. The man stumbled, groaning.
Oh no, it can’t be.
Fifteen metres, and Brick had almost turned, almost started running, before the fireman found his feet again.

‘You kids need to get out of here,’ he said, running right past them, kicking up sand. ‘Go on, get home.’

Brick remembered to breathe, watching the fireman as he ran into the woods, yelling something into a radio.
Thank you,
he said, to Daisy, to the angels, to anything else that was listening.

‘We should go,’ Cal said.

‘Go where?’ Brick asked. ‘What are we supposed to do after that? Pretend it never happened? Pretend it might not happen again?’

Cal shrugged. ‘The only thing I know is that I’m desperate for a can of Dr Pepper. Everything else can wait.’

‘You know that stuff is poisonous,’ said Brick. ‘Nothing but sugar and chemicals.’

‘I know,’ said Cal. He turned, walking up the beach, away from the sea. The others followed, each of them carrying two shadows from the two suns. ‘But if I can survive today, I can survive a can of fizz.’

Brick shook his head, then found that he was smiling, so hard that his cheeks ached. Cal was right. It didn’t really matter what happened next. Right now they were safe, they had survived. He glanced back towards Daisy, hidden inside her bubble of light. Was she watching him now? He raised his hand and waved to her.

‘Goodbye, Daisy,’ he said. ‘I’ll see you soon. Be safe.’

Then he turned, running after the others, hearing her laughter fill the air behind him as he chased his shadow into the sun.