Robin Jarvis-Jax 02 Freax And Rejex (26 page)

BOOK: Robin Jarvis-Jax 02 Freax And Rejex
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“Captain!” Jangler called. “It’s time!”

The door of the supposedly empty chalet was yanked open. A hideous, humpbacked creature came running out. Lee jumped in shock. He hadn’t expected this, not this.

“What the actual hell is that?” he breathed.

Charm screamed, just as she predicted she would if she ever saw one of those things. Other children joined her. Nobody could believe what they were seeing. Jody shook her head in denial and squeezed Christina’s hand.

“No way,” she murmured incredulously. “Can’t be!”

“Mr Big Nose,” the little girl said hollowly. “I told you he was here.”

It was a Punchinello Guard from the book – right there in front of their eyes, in the sunlight and completely real. This wasn’t a dwarf actor in a clever costume with a special-effects head, this was genuine – a living, snarling creature of ugly flesh and gristle. It was dressed in an exact copy of the outfits worn by the guards in the book: a yellow frilled tunic with
scarlet and blue buttons. There was a ruff around the join where the hideous chin jutted from the barrel chest and a yellow, Napoleonic-style hat was pulled down on its head. It should have looked preposterous and absurd, but the clownish costume only made that grotesque face appear even more terrifying.

Alasdair and the others started backing away. The Punchinello shouted an order and four more of the hideous creatures sprang from the cabin, clutching medieval-looking spears and wearing different curved hats. The children screamed louder and fled towards the road. The day had suddenly turned into a nightmare.

Squawking in strange, pinched voices, the guards leaped after them. Moving swiftly on their short, bowed legs, they overtook the terrified children and stood before the gates. They jabbed their spears forward,
taunting and goading, forcing the youngsters back. One of them leered at Charm and licked its lips with a grey tongue.

Marcus couldn’t take it in. This was insane. It was happening so fast the world seemed to be spinning around him. He tried to remain rational, be calm. Be a man.

“Whatever those are,” he voiced sceptically, “they wouldn’t dare lay a finger on us. Besides, there’s only five of them. What’s stopping the rest of you? I’m going.”

He picked up his bag and marched forward defiantly.

The nearest guard ran at him. It struck the boy across the face with a powerful fist and he fell to the ground. The creature stood on his chest and grinned, prodding the spear tip against his neck.

“Oh, yes, oh, yes,” the guard gloated. “Let me kill. Me want to kill.”

Marcus had never been so frightened in his life. He looked up into those cruel, squinting eyes and knew he was a nudge away from death.

“No! Please! Please!” he begged.

“Get off him!” Alasdair shouted.

Maggie looked desperately at the workmen and cried for help, but they calmly carried on putting the fences up. To them it was only natural seeing Punchinellos and the aberrants deserved what was coming to them.

“I can’t believe you people!” Maggie yelled at them. “How can you just stand there?”

“All right, Captain!” Jangler commanded. “That will do. Call your fellow off. The point has been well made.”

Captain Swazzle complied reluctantly. The guard took his foot from Marcus’s chest and drove the spear into the turf close to the boy’s ear.

“Next time,” he growled threateningly, “Yikker not wait for order. Yikker will set your blood free. Yikker no like your smell. It make Yikker angry. You stink.”

Marcus spluttered an apology. The guard waddled away, wiping his great nose. The boy needed Alasdair and Lee to help him to his feet.

“Get some smarts,” Lee told him. “Don’t do nuthin’ like that again.
Those things ain’t foolin’.”

“Captain Swazzle and his fine guards have been brought into this world to guarantee your obedience.” Jangler addressed the children with a dark chuckle. “Don’t antagonise them. They really are as vicious as they appear. There is nothing they would like more than to butcher the lot of you. You may be rejects but you have at least read the sacred text numerous times: you know what the Punchinellos are capable of. There are no creatures more aggressive and violent in all the land. They are the bloodiest fighters in my Lord’s service, so beware. Now where was I? Oh, yes, the despicable destruction of the castle model. Unless the instigator of that hateful crime steps forward to be made an example of, you shall go without food for the rest of the day.”

He looked at them expectantly. “Well, own up. Who did it?”

The children stirred unhappily. They were all hungry but they said nothing. Jody felt her cheeks burn. She was the one who had attacked the model first, but she wasn’t going to confess to that and nobody blamed her.

“Very well,” Jangler said. “I can see it’s pointless trying to appeal to any sense of decency or honour. You filth have none. I do, in point of fact, know precisely who it was.” He snapped his fingers at one of the guards then pointed at Jody. “Take her!” he said.

“Stop!” Alasdair yelled as the creature elbowed its way through the horrified children. “It wasnae her. It were me! I smashed your crappy toy fort to bits. It were me! Not her! She had nothing to do wi’ it! And I’d do it again! Leave her be!”

“You don’t want to do this!” Lee warned the old man.

“I rather think I do,” came the remorseless reply.

It was no use protesting. The Punchinello seized Jody by the hair and dragged her out. The girl shrieked and struggled, but he was too strong and she was hauled backwards over the lawn, kicking and crying.

“Jody!” Christina howled, running after until another guard charged round to bar the way.

“Let her go!” Alasdair demanded. “You’re a maniac! Who do ye think you are?”

“I am Jangler!” the old man laughed. “Your gaoler.”

The guard pushed the girl against the maypole and tore the cardigan from her. Then he tied her hands and hitched her so high her feet could hardly reach the floor. He sniggered gleefully and unhooked a lash from his belt.

“Jody Jody Jody Jody,” he taunted, taking a practice swing.

“No!” Maggie screeched.

“What’s it doin’?” Charm muttered.

Alasdair tried to dash forward, but Captain Swazzle swung the spear shaft under the boy’s legs and threw him backwards.

Jim Parker had watched everything with a mounting awareness that his moment was drawing very close. The excitement he felt was electric. It took his breath away. This would be the first public demonstration of his new powers. It was precisely the sort of perilous situation the heroes in his comic books encountered. The Punchinellos were worthy adversaries for the debut of Jim Credible.

His right hand pressed against his chest and his face assumed a steely determination. He had pledged to protect the other kids here and that’s what he was going to do. This was it. This would be his first battle. In his troubled imagination he heard the galvanising brassy introduction of a John Williams theme, heralding the appearance of a new champion in the pantheon of fantastic superheroes.

The twelve-year-old stepped forward.

“Untie her!” he demanded as the guard raised the lash to strike. “Or you will be sorry. You only get one warning.”

The Punchinellos stared at him and crowed with laughter.

Alasdair lifted his head. “Oh, God, no,” he uttered when he realised what was in the boy’s mind. “No, Jim! Stop! Get back here!”

“I am Jim Credible,” the young hero declared boldly. “Leave this place now, while you still can. I will not allow you to hurt any of these people.”

Marcus looked on, mystified and fearful. He couldn’t understand. What did the boy think he was doing? “Don’t!” he cried. “Are you crazy?” He wanted to run and get him, but was far too scared.

“What you up to, kid?” Lee called. “This ain’t no game!”

But Jim was beyond reason now. In his mind the ‘J’ on his chest shone out through his T-shirt with a blue light and superhuman strength pumped through his veins, inflating his physique. He thought the horrified gasps and calls of the others were cries of amazement now that they saw him for who he really was. He would have to swear them to secrecy when he was done here. His true identity must always remain an enigma.

The guards were still laughing when he rushed at the one with the lash and launched himself at him. He caught the astonished creature by the head and the two of them went rolling on the ground. Jim’s juvenile fists pounded the Punchinello’s misshapen face, but the blows did not send the monster careering through the air as he expected. Instead the guard roared with rage, lurched to his feet and reached for the spear he had set aside. Jim leaped up to charge again. The Punchinello gave a bestial snarl and rammed the weapon into the boy’s chest – straight through the middle of his self-inflicted scar.

There was a ghastly, stretched silence. The others watched him stumble. As Jim fell, his eyes were filled with confusion and surprise.

Then Maggie screamed. Charm covered her face and Marcus sank to his knees.

“What have you done?” Alasdair gasped in stunned disbelief. “Get an ambulance! My God! My God!”

He would have raced to Jim’s side if Lee hadn’t caught his arm and spun him around.

“You want to end up the same? The kid’s gone! Look at him. There’s nothing you, nor no one, can do. He’s dead! Don’t give those things an excuse to do that to you.”

“They k… killed him!” Maggie stuttered, staggering backwards. “They killed him!” She turned to the workmen again. One of them had started
eating his packed lunch. “Damn you!” she cursed.

By Jim’s behaviour, Jangler knew the splinter of Austerly Fellows had not been hiding inside him. He consulted his clipboard with mild annoyance. “Now I shall have to rearrange the work parties,” he tutted. “Let me see, that makes only twenty-two of you now. Ho, two little ducks – as they say in Bingo.”

He peered over at the guards and instructed them to get on with the flogging. The lash began its work and the five Punchinellos hopped and danced as Jody cried out.

“That’s the way to do it!” their odious, nasal voices rejoiced. “That’s the way to do it!”

“And so, with these heart-warming family reunions continuing behind me,” Kate Kryzewski said to camera on the coach, “I am more than happy to admit I was wrong. My initial reaction to
Dancing Jax
was prejudicial and deeply flawed. There is no ‘Jaxis of evil’ here. It’s merely a different and new way of looking at the world but, as you can see, children and families are very much front and centre of that, something we in America can fully appreciate and applaud. All I’ve witnessed this weekend is the joy this book has given to the people of the UK. It has transformed the lives of the sick and disabled and I’ve seen, first hand, the astonishing rehabilitation of convicted felons. What I say to you, America, is do not be afraid of this truly incredible work. Its wisdom and philosophy should be embraced. The benefits it could bring our society are only to be guessed at. This is Kate Kryzewski ending her special report for NBC Nightly News.”

M
ARCUS SHOVELLED THE
last spadeful of soil on to the grave and patted it down respectfully. It was getting dark. Had all this happened in just one day? How had a handful of hours taken this already upside-down world and ripped it inside out so violently?

Jangler had made the teenagers dig the hole themselves. He refused to allow the body out of the camp. Besides, he had said, no one out there cared what happened to them any more. The sooner they understood that,
the easier it would be for them. He generously allowed the use of a spade, but first things first: there was important work to do. The camp had to be cleared of litter and he wanted the dining hall “sparkling like a new pin” before anything else was to be done.

No one dared object. They were numb with shock and traumatised by what they had seen. Their lives had shifted into an even higher gear of insanity and they were straining to adjust and take it in. Jim’s body lay in the sun for most of the day. Close by, Jody remained tied to the maypole. Her back was striped with blood and her head lolled to one side. Alasdair’s pleas to send her to hospital or even just fetch a doctor fell on deaf ears.

A Punchinello stood guard, keeping everyone back.

“Is she dead too?” Christina asked Maggie.

“No,” Maggie answered, trying to sound positive for the little girl’s sake. “She’ll be fine, just you wait and see. Soon as we get these jobs done, we’ll bring her inside and make her better.”

Before they could begin, however, Jangler had them line up in three rows, alphabetically, telling them they must always assemble this way in future. Then he had the guards confiscate every mobile phone, tablet, media player and relevant chargers. They emptied the luggage on the ground, hunting through everything, tearing bags apart if they thought there was a hidden pouch or compartment. One of the creatures pawed through Charm’s clothes with a disgusting grin, his great bristled nose twitching and sampling. They took their finds over to the old man who then instructed them to search the children’s pockets.

Fourteen more phones were found. The leering guard patted Charm down thoroughly with his large gnarled hands, taking much longer than necessary.

“You already found me phone in me handbag!” she said, cringing at his clammy touch. “I ain’t got another one!”

“Bezuel like,” he whispered covetously in her ear. “Pretty.”

The girl shut her eyes and pretended it wasn’t happening. She wanted to retch when she felt his warty fingers on her. If she hadn’t been so frightened
of what he might do, she would have slapped that foul face.

Jangler surveyed the haul with satisfaction. “No more beeps or raucous ringtones,” he said happily. “No more inane chatter or moronic texting. Just perfect peace – and no one will be tempted to email foreign news sites.”

Alasdair looked up sharply. Did Mainwaring know about the messages he had sent yesterday? The old man was not looking in his direction; maybe it was just coincidence. He looked over to the maypole. If the rest of the world could see that, it wouldn’t waste another moment in taking military action against this mad, barbaric country.

“Now,” Jangler said. “Before you get down to work, let’s begin with a chapter – something humorous about Lumpstick, the droll rat catcher and mole choker. The night he chased those blue rodents through the Queen of Hearts’ boudoir…”

No one could believe their ears. Just metres away, Jim’s blood was soaking into the ground, Jody’s back was in urgent need of medical attention and here he was giving a reading from that book as if nothing had happened. Alasdair wondered if the old man had been insane even before
Dancing Jax
. The boy glanced around at the Punchinellos. They weren’t taking any notice of Jangler’s pompous preaching either. What were they? Where did they come from? How did they get here?

When the reading was over, Jangler sighed dreamily and the children were finally permitted to commence work. They set to it with vigour and determination. The sooner they finished, the sooner they could get to Jody. They scrubbed and swept, mopped and polished until the main block looked better than when they first arrived. Then they hurried about the camp with bin bags, picking up streamers and garlands, anything that made it look untidy. It was past two o’clock before Jangler was content with what they had done and allowed them to attend to Jody and the dead boy.

Jody was their immediate concern. There was nothing anyone could do for Jim now, but Marcus covered him with a cloak as Alasdair cut her down. She groaned as the wounds on her back opened again. Anxiously the Scot and Maggie carried her into the cabin and put her on the nearest bed.
Christina looked on, staring with wide eyes at the raw flesh.

“Got to clean that,” Maggie said, trying to be practical and stop herself thinking about the dead boy still outside. She wanted to stop thinking about everything. She wished she could run on autopilot and do what had to be done without wanting to scream every few seconds. Taking a steadying breath, she forced herself to inspect the wounds.

“It won’t look so bad once that dried blood is washed off,” she said for Christina’s benefit.

“Yes, it will,” the little girl uttered.

“’Ere,” a voice said. “Use this.”

A large natural sponge was pushed under Maggie’s nose. She looked up and there was Charm. The animosity of the past had been forgotten.

“Thanks,” Maggie said, “but it’s no good, it’s not sterile. We’ve got to be real careful. If this gets infected…”

“I’ll go boil it,” the model suggested. “That’ll be all right, won’t it?”

Maggie wasn’t sure. “I think so. I don’t know. I’m not a doctor! I hate biology.”

Charm held out her hand to Christina. “Why don’t you come wiv me to the kitchen?” she said. “You can help.”

“I want to stay,” the seven-year-old said stubbornly.

Maggie stroked the little girl’s hair. “Don’t you worry,” she promised. “Jody’s not going anywhere. You’d be helping make her better if you went.”

“Yeah,” Charm said. “Cos I am hopeless, can’t switch a kettle on, me – and fink toast is just bread wiv a spray tan. Come on.”

She led Christina outside and Maggie mouthed a “Thank you”.

It was then Marcus came running in, carrying a green plastic case.

“Every canteen’s got a first-aid kit!” he announced, opening it up. “Knew there’d be one. Found it right at the back of a cupboard – how mad is that?”

“You’re a bloody miracle!” Maggie cried. She almost said she could kiss him, but stopped just in time in case he took it the wrong way. Then she realised how stupid she was being. Their recent history was so insignificant right now.

“What’s it got in there?” she asked.

“Bandages, wipes, lots of little blue plasters, not very useful… tons of other good stuff.”

She reached for a dressing then thought better of it. “I’d better wash my hands first,” she said, running to the bathroom.

Alasdair had been hovering nearby. “If I had a phone,” he said trying to control his anger, “every news agency in the world would see this – and poor Jim out there.”

“Are we really going to bury him?” Marcus asked. “That’s…”

“There’s no right word for what this is,” Alasdair snapped. “But the old lunatic is correct about one thing. Nobody out there in this country gives a monkey’s what happens to us. The police are all Jaxed up. We’re on our own here. This is it. This is our normal from now on. They could skewer us all and no one would do a thing.”

“How… how do you bury someone?”

“We start by digging a very big hole and take it from there.”

They were about to leave the cabin when Maggie emerged from the bathroom.

“Did I hear you wanted a mobile?” she asked.

“Aye,” he said. “But what’s the use of…” He stopped when she handed him her iPhone.

“How did you manage that?” Marcus asked. “Those monsters looked everywhere.”

Maggie coughed and looked at the ceiling. “Not quite everywhere,” she said. “It pays having a quick brain and a bum the size of Wales.”

In spite of everything Alasdair managed a grim laugh. Picking up the phone, he took photos of Jody’s back.

“That won’t prove a thing though,” Marcus said. “We should’ve done them when she was still tied up. Who’d believe it anyway?”

Alasdair knew he was right. Only a photo of Jim would do. That irrefutable evidence would convince everyone. But how would they be able to get a photo of him out there, under the fierce scrutiny of those guards?

Presently Alasdair, Lee, Marcus and the boys who had shared the cabin with Jim gathered about his body. A coffin was out of the question, Jangler had said, with an indignant snort. So they had decided to wrap him tightly in his duvet, together with his beloved comic books and whatever mementoes from home he had brought with him. It wasn’t much to show for twelve years of life. They didn’t even know what his family was like, or if he had any brothers or sisters. Until the night of the drugged May Cup, he hadn’t really said much to anyone.

They stared down at the cloak that still covered him, unsure how they were going to do this. Two Punchinellos were leaning on their spears, watching and snickering at their ashen faces. The sound of splintering wood filled the air as the stage was pulled apart and Jangler was giving instructions to the foreman about the helter-skelter.

“Someone needs to lift that cloak off,” Lee said gently.

Marcus volunteered. He felt he owed the dead boy. If he hadn’t been so cowardly earlier, he might have been able to stop him attacking the guard. Crouching down, he held his breath and drew the cloak aside.

“Don’t you call me a fat cow!” Maggie’s voice hollered suddenly.

“You’re right!” Charm yelled back at her. “Cows ain’t nowhere near as big as you. You’re a giant munter, you are! You don’t need one gastric band – you need a whole bleedin’ music festival.”

“Shut it, you tangerine-faced twig!”

“Yeah, well, at least I didn’t fall out of the minger tree – and then ate it!”

“Come here, you scrawny bitch!”

The two girls started fighting. They pulled each other’s hair and Charm shrieked shrilly.

The Punchinellos turned to view them and cackled. Moments later, Alasdair ran over and pulled the girls apart.

“What is the matter with you?” he cried, leading Maggie back to the cabin and sending Charm off to her own. “Are you both mental? We dinnae need this!”

Once they were back inside, he let out a sigh of relief and brandished
the phone. “We got one,” he said. “But you really dinnae wanna see. I could hardly bear to look.”

Maggie shook her head in agreement and returned to nursing Jody.

“The minger tree?” the wounded girl muttered.

“I had to tell her that one,” Maggie chuckled, relieved to see Jody awake. “That poor girl’s a bit too nice and couldn’t think of anything nasty enough. I’ve heard all the fat insults there are.”

“Nice? Don’t you believe it.”

Alasdair tapped away at the phone.

“Och, there’s only ten per cent of juice left!” he said with irritation. “How’d you let it get so low?”

“I was looking at YouTube in bed first thing,” Maggie explained sheepishly. “And taking pictures always drains it real fast.”

He composed a hasty follow-up email to the one he had sent out the other night, attaching the shocking, macabre photograph taken during the girls’ diversion. Then he did a rapid search for the news sites, adding them to the address list. Abruptly the screen went blank.

“No!” he cried in exasperation. “I was just about to send. Quick! Where’s the charger?”

Maggie’s face fell. “They’ve got it,” she said apologetically. “I couldn’t hide that as well.”

Alasdair stared at her a moment, then he covered his eyes in defeat.

“Plugs have prongs,” she added dismally.

The boy lifted his face and stared out of the door as a fresh, dangerous idea took hold. “There’s only one thing to do then,” he said decisively. “We’re going to have to steal the charger back from old Mainwaring’s hut.”

 

Lee and Marcus took it in turns to dig the grave.

They chose a spot furthest away from the chalets, close to the newly completed fence. One of the Punchinellos oversaw them as they toiled. It was the one called Yikker and he delighted in kicking earth back into the
grave when Marcus was trying to dig it out.

Spencer scrounged a wide piece of wood from the dismantled stage. Nicholas, one of the Xbox boys, turned out to be good at drawing and he printed Jim’s name and age on it in felt pen. It was a pitiable memorial.

Apart from Jody, every other young person gathered at the graveside to pay their respects, as the duvet bundle was lowered reverently into the ground.

“Shouldn’t we say something?” Maggie asked. “Something religious about dust and that kind of thing? A prayer maybe?”

“Do you even know if he was a Christian?” Lee asked.

“No, but it doesn’t seem right, just putting him down there without special words.”

Charm agreed with her. “Got to do it proper,” she said. “We ain’t animals.”

But nobody knew the right words to say and Google was no longer an option.

“Hell,” Lee said. “I’ll do it. I heard me enough sermons, something must’ve stuck.”

He did his best, and the other children took solace in what he said, but he felt a fraud. He never did have much of a faith before that book took over and certainly none after. Seeing how easily his grandmother had removed her favourite painting of Jesus from the wall and replaced it with a print of Mooncaster had killed that. Where was God when Jim had needed him? Where was he for them right now?

“We should sing something too,” Maggie suggested when Lee finished speaking. “What hymns do we know?”

Only a few of them knew any by heart. They were going to give up on it when Charm began to sing, in a faint, wavering voice.

Silent night, holy night.

At first they thought she was making a sick joke or was too stupid to know
it was only a Christmas carol. But, as she sang, they found meaning in those familiar, moving words and, one by one, joined in.

Holy infant so tender and mild.

Sleep in heavenly peace.

Sleep in heavenly peace.

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