The other man began to listen. Gerald wasn’t one to panic unnecessarily. Throughout all of this he had been the solid foundation that Martin depended on, the one who had stopped him giving in to black despair, time and again, and kept him fighting. If Gerald Benning suspected something then, for him, that was as good as proof. He didn’t question his assessment of their situation again.
“OK…” Martin said. “But you’re forgetting two important things. There’s no way out of here. Even if there was, there’s nowhere to run to.”
“We’ll worry about that second little detail later,” the old man told him, brushing it aside as if it didn’t matter. “Our first priority is escape. I suggest we get the kids out here on the terrace and scramble down the mountain. It’s not as ludicrous as it sounds; it isn’t quite as steep over at the far end there. We might be able to make it to the valley and the shelter of the trees. It’s a bit too like The Inn of the Sixth Happiness for my liking, but there’s no other option.”
Martin spluttered. “What? I thought you meant steal a truck and smash our way out the main entrance. We’ll break our necks climbing down there; not only that, but there’s guards with machine guns stationed all round.”
“And in this fog they couldn’t see the cast of Show Boat promenading underneath their sentry posts. But it’s starting to thin so we don’t have much time.”
“Wait, you mean right now, this minute?”
“Absolutely. These military types aren’t going to mess about any longer. They’ll be more desperate to find this mythical vaccine than ever – and Lee was right: the power of the book has arrived. This place is done for. We’ve seen it time and again everywhere we’ve been. You know how fast it takes over.”
“But how? I mean… what about the guards here in the medical centre? We can’t get past them. They’re not going to let us bring the kids outside en masse. They’ll know we’re up to something.”
Gerald’s jaw tightened. “We could if we were armed, Martin,” he said bluntly. “They won’t be expecting that; we’d take them by surprise.”
“What? Guns! Are you… how are we going to get hold of them?”
“Quite easily. I’ve been thinking it might come to something like this for a long while. I know just where we can lay our hands on four rifles. We’re going to need weapons once we leave here anyway; there’s no knowing what we’ll encounter out there.”
“God, Gerald,” Martin breathed. “You’d have to be prepared to use them. Actually shoot someone.”
“I know. But the alternative is too horrendous to think about. In difficult times there are no easy choices. It’s them or the children, Martin.”
“They’re not kids any more, not after everything they’ve been through, everything they’ve seen. But yes… you’re right. So where are these rifles? Have you got them stashed away someplace? You’re amazing.”
The old man gave him a grim smile. “No,” he replied. “Four very generous guards are going to give them to us.”
“Sorry?”
“Our young friend Lee’s entourage. We’re going to snaffle their rifles.”
Martin finally understood. “No,” he said firmly. “That’s madness! He’ll never agree for one thing and, even if he did, we can’t trust him. You know what he’s going to do when he gets there!”
“We need those rifles, Martin. This is the only way. Lee is going to have to perform that special hoodoo he does and go into the world of that evil book, taking the souls, or whatever you want to call it, of his guards with him. What’s left behind of them here will fall down in a faint and all we have to do is relieve them of their weapons. It’s so simple, it’s frightening.”
“No, what’s frightening is what Lee intends to do once he gets there.”
“Let’s deal with one crisis at a time, shall we? What Lee does, or doesn’t do, will be up to him. I don’t believe he’s the vile scum you think he is.”
Martin could feel his temper rising again. “You don’t?” he hissed. “Really? That lout in there – that selfish, idle thug – is going to Mooncaster for one reason only: to do Austerly Fellows’ dirty work. He’s the one person in all creation with the power to kill the character called the Bad Shepherd who, according to Maggie and Spencer, is some warped manifestation of none other than Jesus flaming Christ! And you don’t think that lad is scum? He’s worse than that; he’s itching to be a second bloody Judas!”
“That isn’t the real reason he wants to go, Martin. He’s been torn apart by grief and horror. He wants to be reunited with that lovely girl. So no, I don’t think he’s scum. He’s just a person in pain.”
“Don’t give me that. He’s chucking the whole of humanity over for the sake of a dead chav who, from what I’ve heard, was so dumb she thought Jane Eyre was a cheap airline to Ibiza for hen parties – and that toerag is laughing in our faces about it.”
“Martin!” Gerald snapped angrily. “You disappoint me sometimes, you genuinely do. You can be such an elitist snob! Lee is the way he is because people like you made him that way, long before Jax happened. Outside of his family, Charm was the first person to reach out and love him for who he was – is it any wonder he’s so churned up about her? Neither you nor I met the girl, but she sounds magnificent. I know what’s really biting you; it’s what he said about Carol. I’ve told you before, she can’t help what’s happened to her. She’s a victim.”
“Is she? She knew what the book was capable of, yet she read it deliberately. She wanted to get turned. That’s what I can’t get out of my head and what eats me up inside. She wanted it.”
“She only did that so she could find Paul! Remember how distressed she was when he became the Jack of Diamonds and disappeared. She was beside herself; she had to find her son. Why is that so impossible to understand? She sacrificed her own identity, everything she was, for her child’s sake. That’s what every mother does. How can you hold that against her? She wasn’t to know she’d become the Labella character.”
“She didn’t have to do it. I would’ve found him.”
“And a fat load of good you were when you eventually did. But that was then and this is now and we need to act. We’ve got to persuade Lee to take those guards of his into Mooncaster. Whether you like it or not, he’s our one and only chance to get the rest of these kids out of here alive. We’re all dead if we don’t.”
“Then God help us.”
The water in the bucket had iced over. Maggie cracked through it with the handle of the mop then began swabbing the bloody traces from the floor. The young refugees were not given work to do, but they were expected to keep their areas clean. Sometimes they almost wished they did have some sort of duties to keep them busy, but they never found themselves missing the minchet harvesting they’d been forced to do back in the camp.
Maggie couldn’t understand why Lee hated Martin so much. OK, so he was a bit up himself, thought his opinions were more important than everyone else’s and slipped back into teacher mode too regularly, but hadn’t he been proven right all down the line? If the authorities back in England had taken him seriously at the start, the horror of Dancing Jax might