Blue Dome (The Blue Dome Series) (13 page)

“If Min and I come back
for Bede, will you come to the Slipworld with us now?” he said.

“Is there no way we can
find Bede first?” I said.

“No Clare, there really
isn’t,” said Min. “So much time has passed already and Demarge can move
incredibly quickly in this world. Please, just trust us on this.”

I paused to consider the
options. If I went with Min and Thomas it would at least mean I’d have a chance
of getting out of the prison. It would also mean not having to see Demarge
again.

“Okay, I’ll go with you
now,” I said, reluctantly. “But only if you
promise
me that we’ll come
back and look for Bede.”

“Of course,” said Min.

“So how’s this going to
work?” I said, gazing up the window. “Are we going to take turns giving each
other a leg up or something?”

Min and Thomas laughed.

“What?” I said frowning.

“Min and I may not be
quite at our full strength at the moment, but we can certainly do a little
better than that,” said Thomas.

As I waited for him to
continue, I noticed a strange twitching movement from somewhere immediately
behind him. I glanced sideways at Min and noticed that the weird twitchy thing
was happening behind her too. Before I could ask either of them what was going
on, a pair of translucent wings with fine, pale blue veins was gradually
unfurling from just beneath Min’s shoulder blades. Each wing was a long, narrow
oval, the shape of a surfboard. Now Thomas’ wings were also unfolding from his
back, the fine veins a pale yellow.

I blinked and rubbed my
eyes.
There’s no way this can be real
, I told myself. But no matter what
I did to try to clear my crazy vision of the wings, nothing seemed to work. Min
smiled.

 “Thomas and I are not
made of flesh and blood like you. We’re made of light. We have no need for
wings in the Slipworld, where light can move easily. But here, in the world of
material things, the dark atmosphere presses in on us. We’ve had to adapt as
other creatures have, by developing wings so we can cut through the heaviness
and carry objects.”

As Min spoke I barely
noticed that she and Thomas had slid their arms under each of mine. I felt my
hair blow across my face as the frantic beating of wings vibrated in my ears. Before
I knew what was happening, my feet were leaving the ground and I was travelling
rapidly towards the window. I made the stupid mistake of looking down and my
stomach began to lurch. I was still trying to deal with my gag reflexes when I
felt Min whispering in my ear.

“Curl yourself into a ball,
we need to pass you through the window.”

I quickly drew my arms
and legs into my body, accidentally whacking myself in the face with my elbow.
Youch
.

“Why do I have to be so
clumsy?” I cursed under my breath.

I was now doing my best
impression of an egg as I felt my butt touch down on a cold slab of stone. The
atmosphere smelt even mustier out here than it had inside the prison – not a
bad smell exactly, just a damp one, which reminded me a bit of wet moss.

“The ledge is very narrow
so be careful,” said Min.

I reached out, my
fingertips tentatively dabbing the rough grain of the stone, before stretching out
each of my legs, one after the other. It was only once I was sure I’d properly
balanced myself that I dared to lift my head and look around. I saw instantly
what Min had meant about the ledge – there were only centimetres between my
hand and the edge of the stone, which fell away into endless darkness.

I swallowed hard, trying
desperately to settle my stomach. My fingers were now clutching the window
frame so tightly that my knuckles had turned white.

“Clare, are you okay?” Min’s
bell-like voice rose out of the window. I watched her slide through it and step
neatly over my legs, balancing on the outer rim of the ledge. She looked so
relaxed you’d have thought she was standing in the middle of a huge, flat
paddock, rather than a millimetre away from a one-way trip into a bottomless
pit.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I lied.

Min leant down to help me
up, as I tried – and failed – to think of a good excuse to remain sitting.

“It’s okay, we’ll make
sure you don’t fall,” said Thomas, stepping through the window and easing his
way behind me.

I smiled weakly. It
seemed there was no way I was going to be able to avoid having to stand on the
ledge. Min grasped my arm and gently pulled me to my feet as I balanced myself
against the side of the prison.

“You’ll be fine, just
don’t look down,” she said.

I swallowed nervously and
nodded, repeating her words to myself like a mantra. From this angle I could
now see that we were on the top of what looked like a square with a dome-shaped
roof, suspended in the middle of an underground cavern. I craned my neck, while
keeping my feet completely still, to see the spiral staircase shimmering in the
indigo darkness behind me. Turning to face Min again, I noticed that the ledge
we were standing on was actually connected to a long, thin, rocky pathway. I ran
my eyes along it until I eventually lost the thread, somewhere in the distance
far, far away.

“Where does the path go?”
I said.

“It leads to the wall of
the cavern,” said Min.

I had a nasty feeling I
already knew the answer to my next question, but I felt compelled to ask it anyway.

“So do we have to go
along that path to get out of here?”

Min nodded. “There’s a
door at the end of it, back to the outside world.”

As clichéd as I know it
sounds, my heart sunk. Never mind its sheer length, the path looked incredibly
steep.

“Can we fly?” I asked
hopefully.

“No, it’s too risky,”
said Min. “Thomas is already weak and if we lose all our light we’ll have very
little hope of getting back home again. I’m afraid we are just going to have to
walk like mortals.”

Like mortals
. There was that phrase again. I only wished that this time I could humour
it as easily.

Bede woke to find his
mattress being shaken, as if he was in the middle of an earthquake. Someone was
shouting something very loudly in his ear. He rubbed his eyes and looked up.

“Get off my bed!” said
the voice. “Go and find another mattress, this one’s mine!”

“Wh…what?” said Bede. “I
don’t understand, I thought I was allowed to sleep anywhere.” He was now fully
awake and propped up on his elbows.

“Well think again. This
is
my
bed, so move it.”

Bede looked into the face
that was shouting at him. It was framed by a hood, making it impossible to see
the person’s hair, but it had clear grey eyes, delicate bones and translucent
skin. Even in the dim, early morning light, Bede could vaguely see the fine
blue veins just beneath the surface of the person’s temples.

“Well?” the face
demanded.

“Well
what
?” said
Bede. The shock of having been woken up so suddenly was fast being replaced by
raw indignation. So he’d made a mistake, big deal. It didn’t mean he deserved
to be woken up and shouted at. He was only new to the house, after all.

“Well get off my bed,
that’s
what
,” said the face.

Bede sat up properly and
surveyed the edges of the room. Even at a quick glance there were at least
three unoccupied mattresses.

“What’s wrong with that
one over there?” he said, nodding at the vacant mattress furthest away.

“That’s not the
point
,”
the voice insisted. “This is
my
bunk and
you’re
on it.”

Bede shook his head and
gave a frustrated snort. It was hopeless trying to reason with someone like
that. He turned away and was about to lie down again, when he felt a fist land
heavily against his arm, followed by a swift kick to his thigh. Now it was all
on.

“What the hell do you
think you’re doing?” Bede shouted.

Undeterred, the figure
jumped on him, biting and kicking, as it tried to wrestle Bede off the
mattress. Bede snatched hold of his attacker’s arms and held them fast. Despite
his bulky winter coat, the man’s arms were as thin and bony as a whippet. It
was only then that Bede realised he was just a kid, and one who was physically
much weaker than him. He breathed an inward sigh of relief, the fight wouldn’t
be so bad after all.

By now, virtually
everyone else in the room had woken up and was starting to get involved.

“Cut out the racket!” a
voice shouted from across the room.

“Hey, what’s going on?”
shouted someone else, flicking the lights on.

Bede blinked, like a mole
surfacing in daylight, as he continued to wrestle with the stranger. Finally, someone
got up from their mattress and pulled the assailant away.

“Enough Calix! For God’s
sake, what’s got into you? You’re acting crazy.”

“Get off me Ian!” said
the stranger. “This is the umpteenth time I’ve come home from work and found
that someone’s taken my space. I’ve had enough!”

Bede looked up to see
that a man was now restraining the boy, although with some difficulty. In the
struggle his hood had been pushed back and the small face was now crowded by a fine
mass of shoulder-length, sandy brown hair.

“You’re a girl?” said
Bede in disbelief.

“And you’re a rocket
scientist,” the stranger spat as she continued to try wriggling free. “Man,
you’re such an arse, Ian. I would’ve had him if you hadn’t got involved.” She
turned back to Bede.

“Don’t think this is
over. I’m talking to
Troy
in
the morning. I’ve had enough of punks like you, coming in here and nicking my
bed so I’ve got nowhere to sleep. You might think you’re all smug now, but just
wait until I’ve spoken to
Troy
.
You’ll be out, do you hear me, out!” Calix stormed out of the room.

“Good, can we please get
back to sleep now?” said an anonymous, irritated voice. Someone hit the lights
and the quiet darkness settled itself in the room again.

Bede lay awake, staring
at the ceiling for a few moments as he tried to make sense of what had just
happened. Who was that crazy mare? Why would
Troy
want a loose unit like that living in the house? He glanced
sideways, hoping that his neighbour might be able to fill him in, but he was
clearly trying to get back to sleep. Bede yawned and glanced at his watch:
3:17 am
. It was either much too late, or much too
early, to try to make sense of it himself. He sighed, rolled over, and went
back to sleep.

It seemed like only
minutes later that the angry bleeps of an alarm clock ripped open the room. Still
in a semi-conscious daze, Bede pulled his hood down over his ears and tried to
block out the noise. It was no use. The siren busted its way into his ears and
bounced around inside his head like a wasp caught in a jam jar. He slowly
opened his eyes, one at a time, just as a pair of legs walked past his nose.
Bede glanced up to see Ian, the short, stocky man who had helpfully prised
Calix off him several hours earlier.

“Morning!”

Bede winced inwardly.
Whatever time it was, he was sure it was still too early to be either that
cheerful or that loud.

“Morning,” he whispered
back.

“I see you survived your
first night in the House of Pain,” said Ian, laughing at his own joke.

“Only just,” said Bede.
“Getting set upon by a Banshee didn’t help. Who is that girl?”

“Calix,” said Ian.

“Sounds like she’s been
here a while?” said Bede.

Ian nodded. “Yeah, from
the start. Used to have a thing with
Troy
I think, but that’s been over for a while now. She does a night
shift in a local factory, putting dolls together. I think it sends her a bit
mental. That’s not the first time she’s gone off on one. Probably won’t be the
last either. I’d stay out of her way if I were you.”

“Thanks for the tip. I’m
Bede, by the way.”

“Good to meet you, I’m Ian.”
He shook Bede’s hand before turning to leave. “I better get going, my shift
starts in half an hour.”

Bede glanced at his watch
again – it was almost ten, time to get up and start looking for Clare. He
reached behind him, stabbing the floor with his fingers until he struck his
clothes. They were still a bit damp but they would have to do. Once he’d made
sure there was no one else in the room he quickly dropped his jeans and slid the
underpants on. He squirmed as the soggy fabric hit his skin and slimed its way
up his legs, as cold and clammy as a dead flounder.

Uggh, that’s so gross
, Bede thought to himself, yanking his jeans on over the top to
disguise the dampness.

He was halfway through
putting his T-shirt on when Calix wandered into the room. She scowled at him
instantly. Caught off-guard, Bede blushed awkwardly, struggling to pull the
fabric down over his head to cover his stomach. He wasn’t even going to attempt
a conversation while he was still half-naked. Calix continued to study him with
her cold, inscrutable grey eyes, before quickly casting a glance around the
rest of the room.

“Where’s Ian?” she asked.

Bede could now see her
face properly, in the daylight, without a T-shirt in the way. She looked about
seventeen – older than when he’d thought she was a boy, but still a year or so
younger than him.

“Dunno, he said he had to
get ready,” said Bede.

 Calix shrugged and
turned to leave.

“Hey…” Bede stopped her
in her tracks. “About this morning, I really didn’t know that was your bed. If
I had, I wouldn’t have taken it.”

Calix turned to face him
square on, pausing as she quickly looked him up and down. Bede noticed that her
lip was turned up slightly at the corner, although it was hard to tell if she
was sneering, or just thinking.

“Whatever,” she said.
Then, in a slightly more conciliatory tone, “maybe I jumped down your throat a
bit. I’m tired when I get home and I just wanted to crash. It’s hard enough
living here as it is, y’know?”

“Yeah, I can imagine,”
said Bede. “I mean, I’m really grateful that
Troy
’s letting me stay and everything – I’d be pretty stuffed otherwise
– but it’s not the same as having your own home with your own bedroom.”

Calix stifled a smile.
“Can’t remember the last time I had that,” she said, turning to leave. She
paused at the door.

“Have you had breakfast?”

Bede shook his head.

“Want to come grab some
three-day old bread, gone crispy from being left out on the sink all night? We
can pretend it’s been toasted.”

Bede laughed. “Sounds delicious,”
he said, following Calix down the corridor towards the kitchen. “We haven’t
really been introduced yet.” He held out his hand. “I’m Bede de Milo.”

“Calix Michaels,” said the
girl. “So where are you from anyway?”

Bede took a deep breath
and carefully retold the same story that Shrapnel had given
Troy
the night before. It was just easier
that way, at least until he’d had a chance to explain things a bit more to
Troy
.

“How about you?” he said,
anxious to deflect the conversation away from himself.

Calix was in the process
of driving her knife into the jam pot and drawing out a heart-shaped
strawberry, slapping it bloodily onto the bread.

“Oh, you know, usual
story. Father left before I knew him, mother remarried an alcoholic who beat
her up and abused me. I ran away as soon as I could, lived on the streets, met
Troy
and hooked up with him for a bit,
then got a factory job and moved in here.” She paused, trying to remember if
there were any other key points she’d missed out. “Yep, that’s basically it.”

“That’s pretty full-on,”
said Bede.

Calix shrugged. “I dunno.
It’s not like I’m the only one. This place is full of misfits like me.” She
laughed and bit into her jam sandwich.

There was an awkward
silence as Bede wondered what to say next. He noticed a radio sitting on top of
the bench.

“Does that thing work?”
he asked.

“Yeah, if it’s got
batteries,” said Calix. “Can never guarantee that though.”

Bede flicked the switch
and the radio answered back with a gasp of crackly static. He found the tuning
dial and moved it around slowly until he found a man who was part way through a
song.

“Ha!” choked Calix through
a mouthful of bread. “I was named after this song.”

“What, ‘Calix’?” said Bede.

“Nah, not Calix,” she
said, half laughing and looking at him as if he was stupid. “Jean. You know, as
in the song you’re listening to?”

“Oh,” said Bede, feeling
a bit foolish. “So where did Calix come from then?”

“Read it in a book and
thought it sounded more like me than ‘Jean’ did. So I changed it,” said Calix.
She started singing along to the chorus, playfully trying to mimic the low
tones.

Bede laughed and joined
in. Before they knew it they were dancing about in the kitchen, each holding jammy
bits of bread in their hands. A loud crashing sound suddenly interrupted them. It
was coming from the front door.

“What’s that?” said Bede.

“No idea,” said Calix. “Most
of us have gone by this time of the morning.”

It was then that they
heard the dreaded words over the loud-hailer.

“Open up! Police!”

“No way,” breathed Calix,
her eyes growing round with shock.

Troy
came bounding down the corridor and into the kitchen.

“Bloody cops,” he said. “We
haven’t even had an eviction notice yet. Quick, grab your stuff and tell everyone
who’s still here to follow me. We can take off out the back door.”

“Come on, we know you’re
in there!” a voice boomed over the loud-hailer. “If you open up, you know it
will be a lot better for everyone.”

“They mean a lot better
for them,” said Calix. “Anything to save having to run around the city after us.”

“What’s going on?” Ian
came panting down the corridor. “I was just about to leave when I heard that
racket going on outside.”

“So who have we got then?”
said
Troy
, quickly scanning the
heads in the kitchen. “Okay, Calix, Bede, Ian and me. Just us four.” He shook
his head and sighed. “Man, there’re thirty people who don’t have a home to go
to tonight. We need to warn them.”

“There’s no time for that,”
said Calix. “We’ve got to run for it while we can.” She wrenched the door
handle, pushing frantically against the wood. It was no use.

“It’s stuck!” she said.

Troy
brushed past Calix and Bede and slammed his shoulder against the
door as hard as he could, his face crinkling with pain. The wood crackled and
there was a sharp, splintering noise as the rusty hinges gave way.
Troy
propped open the door and the others
squeezed into the garden which was thick with ivy, thorny brambles and long,
stringy weeds.
Troy
and Bede
wrapped their hands in their coat sleeves and began tearing a path through it.
They had just about reached the fence line when Shrapnel suddenly appeared.