Elvissey (41 page)

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Authors: Jack Womack

BOOK: Elvissey
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"I'm sorry," he said. "Isabel, I'm sorry. Help me-"

John grabbed E's arm, dragging him across the stone as if
readying to throw him to the crowd. Leverett sighted what
onwent, dropped his phone and rushed over. Malloy's men
positioned themselves along the steps, lifted their weapons and fired. The crowdroar intensified; paving-stones landed
against the columns. Leverett drew back as he ran over, and
punched E's face; held his hand as if he'd broken it while
continuing to shout.

"Look what you did! Look-!"

"Don't hit me-" E said, rubbing his jaw; before John
could pull him away I took hold, and brought him over to
me. The gunfire upvolumed; eyeing downward, I saw that
those in the crowd who came armed had reached the front.
Seizing E more tightly with one hand, I reached into my
purse with the other, finding the compact. The cathedral's
smaller entranceways had revolving doors, to facilitate large
numbers of tourists; I knew what essentialed if we were to
escape, if but momentslong. Towing E, I raced toward the
doors; John and Leverett dashed after us, ignoring the Elvii
at the top of the stairs. I threw myself against the glass of one
of the compartments, hauling E into the wedge with me as
I pressed my thumb against the compact; before ten seconds
passed John, too, crammed into our slot.

"Not without me, Iz," he said. "Not without me."

Bracing my feet against our enclosing doors to hold them
placed, I sealed our compartment just as all outside went
white. Closing my eyes, feeling vibrations race bodywide, I
prayed unto Godness that my baby wouldn't be harmed.
Blood warmed my face as my nose flowed; neither E nor
John worded, while we were passing. Through my lids I
detected a shadowing as the whiteness faded; drawing my
feet together, I leaned forward and pushed, spinning the
door round until we exited. Coming out, my arm still clutching E's, I looked at a dark, red world.

"What's this?" E said, freeing himself of my grip. "Where
are we?"

"Iz," said John. "It's-"

"War," I said, at once recalling the historical inferences
Dryco extrapolated, following our return.

"We're still in London?" E asked, staring out from the top
of the steps.

"What war?" John asked. "The second? It's over-"

"Not here," I said. "Britain never peaced with Germany.
It's ongoing and we're in it-"

Until I saw the searchlights it was impossible to say if it was
day or night. The cathedral's plaza was blockaded round by
sandbags, and overroped with entangled hoses, lying coiled
atop one another, resembling a snake-nest; spray geysered
from leaks in their lengths. They were connected to firewagons, and their nozzles were directed by parties of men
wearing metal bowls atop their heads, watering the burning
buildings surrounding the cathedral. From a hundred
blazes smoke billowed, clotting the air, stinging my eyes and
choking me as I attempted to breathe.

"We can't stay here," I said, holding a handkerchief
against my face. "Whatever's ongoing on the other side, we
have to go back-"

"I'm not goin' back," E said, backing away from us.
"They'll kill me."

"You'll die here," I said.

"Maybe not-"

"It's senseless, you can't-" A newspaper fluttered along,
catching at my ankles; plucking it up, I scanned its heads:

GERMANY RENEWS ATTACK

LIVERPOOL, MANCHESTER, LEEDS HIT BY MISSILES

BRIGHTON SCHOOL V3ED, 189 DEAD

TRIAL BY NAZI HELLFIRE *** `BOMB AWAY' SAYS LONDON

IF THEY HAVE THE BOMB, WILL THEY USE IT?

"I had it, Isabel," E said. "You're not gettin' me back
there, no way." A series of blasts went off in the near distance, shaking the stone beneath my shoes; one of the sculptures toppled from the pediment, shattering as it fell onto
the steps. E turned, and began his own descent.

"John," I said, following. "Stop him."

My husband actioned at once, moving more quickly than
I'd have expected he would; as he threw himself at E, tackling him and sending them both rolling down the steps, I
understood his intent. As they came to rest at the bottom he
positioned himself atop E and started hitting him. Shellbursts bejeweled the smoke above as if they were fireworks,
showering golden rain that burned, skinhitting. Three ambulances sped through the street alongsiding the cathedral's
north side, ringing their bells.

"Stop it," I shouted, grasping John's collar, pulling him
away. "You can't-"

"Essentialled," my husband said, jerking loose of my grip.
"He hurt. He'll suffer. I'll revenge us yet."

The cathedral's dome appeared as a broken egg whenever
the searchlights played over across the ruin. Silvery fish
floated through the ink that drowned it, glinting as the
beams lanced their sides; after a befuddled moment I gathered that they were observation balloons. One burst as it was
harpooned, and sank slowly into the murk. "Leave him be.
We have to home it-"

"Rapist!" John cried, returning to his work, fisting E repeatedly. "Housebreaker! You ruined us. You ruined us-"
As I fixed myself upon my husband's back once more, I
heard a drone overhead, the buzz of a bird-size bee; unexpectedly, it silenced, and some seconds afterward the ruins
to the south of the cathedral reblew, throwing the three of
us headover end, spattering us with cinder and slag. Sitting,
looking up, I watched red blooms blossom from what had
been sowed; the sirens didn't deafen against the screams.

"Come-" I said, pulling myself up along with E; his
jumpsuit was blackened with soot and smudge, dulling its
brightness, blanking our logo. His face was bruised and
swollen; his hair was matted with blood. John was recovering
as well; running his hand along his leg, assuring its fit, he readied to stand. "Come, E. We have to go. Come on-" He
pulled away from me before John could haul him in.

He drew back, disentangling himself. "No, Isabel. I won't
do it."

"You can't stay here."

"This is where I'll be goin' soon enough," he said. "You
go. I won't-"

John lunged forward, striking E in the chest with his good
leg, sending him down atop an agglomeration of charred
timber. E enraged; seeing my husband move toward him he
retrieved one of the more solid boards and swung up
around, breaking it against my husband's skull.

"Stop it!!" I screamed. "I'll leave you both-!"

Neither seemed troubled by my threat; even now I can't
say that I wanted to leave either of them there. As John
dropped, so E rose; I paused there for what seemed a limitless time as they pummeled each other, sparks and ash raining down on us all the while. The fires around us intensified,
blending into a single blaze; when the firemen's hoses ignited they dropped them and ran. One called out to us,
awakening me from my trance. "It's a firestorm!" he
shouted. "Are you mad? Go underground, get to shelter!"

The wind heated, picking up; lighter debris ascended and
circled through the air, as if they were no more than bits of
paper uplifted by a candle flame. As the fires burned hotter
their roar grew; the smoke so thickened that I expected we'd
all shortly drop. John had E down again, slamming his face
against the paving-stones, remodeling him one last time.
From his pocket I saw him extract his straight razor, and lift
E's head by one ear. Bereft of thought, heedless of result, I
picked up one of the boards and brought it down so hard as
I could against my husband's back; as he fell off E I lifted it
again, and smashed his bad leg's knee.

"Run, then, if that's what's wanted," I told E. "Run."

His balance failed him as he tried to stand, and several
times he slipped against the pavement; when he at last footed he stared horizonwide for a moment, seeing, as I saw,
nothing but fire. As he wiped the blood from his face, cleaning his blackened hands on his suit, E smiled, as if, having
accepted his prospects, he at last felt himself redeemed.
"G'bye, Isabel," he said, his lip drawing into that unconscious sneer; stumbling away from us, he headed northwest,
where the flames hadn't yet ravaged every street, and vanished into smoke.

My husband lay on the pavement watching; pawed at his
leg with his hand. `John-" I said. "We have to leave.
John-" He said nothing; without warning gesture he thrust
his fist against my face. In midswing he must have conscioused of his action, for he restrained his jab, and therefore neither fractured my bones nor splintered my teeth; yet,
he hit me. Edging far from him, I knelt against the cobbles,
finding the air breathable enough at groundlevel to allow
me my sobs. Facades in Ludgate tumbled streetways as their
fires overwhelmed; bricks sprayed across the plaza as if they
were meteors. Momentslong while kneeling there I allowed
myself disallowable thoughts; considered how easy it would
be to stretch out, and await cremation. Belaying such notions, I looked at my husband; raising the hand with which
he'd hit me, clenching it, he started pounding his own face,
beating himself full-strengthed. Before I could stop him
he'd caved in his right cheek; his nose sagged, as if the rising
heat melted it. Seizing his hands, I pinned him; watched his
face redden like a Jersey sunset.

"For you," he said, his voice faraway, barely audible over
the surrounding holocaust's rumble. "For you. It's all
wrong, whatever I did, whatever was done. Whatever was ever
done. I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so so sorry-

"We have to go, John." Fresh explosions throbbed my
ears, sounding as firecrackers might to an ant. "Back to the
cathedral. We'll have to go back where we came in."

"Leave me. It's my deathright here, Iz. Please leave me,
please-"

"I can't-"

"Why?"

He had me, twiceover; but whatever he'd done, having
already watched E lose himself, I wasn't going to goodbye
my husband over here as well. "Let's go," I said. Standing,
I fixed my grip, enabling for him to rise; saying naught,
nodding assent, he allowed me to lift him, one last time. He
shifted his weight onto his good leg; the wind blew so that
he couldn't stand unaided. Encircling his waist with one
arm, I supported him as we started toward the steps; retrieved the compact from my purse with my free hand.

"The church's afire, Iz," he said; through the smoke I saw
flames, high on the cathedral's roof, behind the towers. "It's
unmakable."

"Come on." We ascended two steps at a time, steering
around rubble fallen down from the pediment. Dust sandblasted our skin as the wind raked us; oily smoke blinded me,
and soon we were only fumbling forward and up, lifting our
shoes quickly from the steps so as not to sear them. I
dropped as we reached the top, taking my husband with me,
fearful that if we continued upright we'd smother, halfway
across the portico. We dragged ourselves faster than we
could have walked; shimmers playing over the entranceways'
interiors evidenced that the nave had taken fire. Explosions
rang the stone underneath as a clapper rings a bell; I
crawled all the faster, dragging John along, believing that
the columns would at any moment shiver down onto us. My
compact warmed my hands; my clothes began to smolder.

"I love you, Iz-"

"I know," I sighed; pulled myself into the first revolving
door we reached, careful not to touch the red-hot brass
vanes until it essentialled. After I hauled John in with me,
assuring that all of him was within our wedge before I stood,
I positioned my feet and one hand against the metal doors
to adjust the final fit, sealing us in as I thumbed my compact.
I unbodied, and barely felt the burn; watched the columns outside crack and fall as flames tongued their grooves, wondering how long it would take us to bake. The columns, the
fires; all suddenly whited out, and I no longer noticed any
sensation of temperature as I pressed against the doors.
Momentslong, our world reappeared; I spun us around, that
we might fall into it. London's air, here, was so fresh by
comparison as if it came from tanks; as I inhaled its sweetness, exhaling black when I coughed, I pressed myself
against the cool stone as if it were my own bed. John, too,
came through whole; he lay where he'd spilled, touching his
fingers to his broken face as if it were my body. Staring out
into the plaza, I saw that the Elvissey was over; the worshipers, surely disappointed but as surely not disheartened, had
left. Dozens of workpeople were packing away speakers,
gathering up discards, hosing blood off the steps. When I
looked rightward, I saw the door through which we must
originally have passed; several bobbies and three or four
suited men encircled the entranceway. At first I couldn't see
what it was they surrounded. A tourguide, splendid in his
vicar's costume, turned away from their group and saw us.
He tapped his compatriots' shoulders, and as they looked
over I heard one speak.

"Call Malloy," the man said. As two of them rushed into
the cathedral I saw a pair of trousers lying at the doorway;
shoes protruded from the trousers. At first I thought they'd
been stuffed with batting, as if for a party prank. Then it
occurred to me that the window between worlds must have
extended some distance beyond our doored compartment
when it opened; when it closed, it closed-partly-on Leverett.

The men who'd gone inside reemerged. "That's them,"
said one.

"The darkie, too?" They nodded.

 
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