Skylight (Arcadium, #2) (13 page)

“That is
unfortunate,” Jacob says, after a long pause.

We come across
yet another blockage and though the gap between the two trains is
pretty narrow, we could probably squeeze through if we lost the
side mirrors. Jacob doesn’t seem keen.

“It’s just
paint,” I say.

His eyes snap
to me. “Just because we live in a largely destroyed world, doesn’t
mean we have to destroy everything else ourselves. Some things are
still… precious.”

“People are
precious,” I say. “Inanimate objects are not.”

“Unfortunately
not everyone has a family left.”

Well that shuts
me up. Philosopher Jacob motions for Trouble to drive, and he edges
the car toward the gap. The bonnet just fits through and when it
comes to the wing mirrors, they groan in protest and both snap off,
hanging by a wire or two until the force slingshots them to the
ground. Trouble’s head switches from side to side, measuring. The
car makes a horrible squealing sound as it deposits its paintwork
on the two corners of the trains.

Kean taps me on
the shoulder and I look over. He directs my attention out the back
window where I count eight infected wandering toward us with slow
ebbing footsteps.

The four-wheel
drive shudders and then pops out the other side into freedom. Kean
and I settle back into our seats and never say anything about
what’s following because there’s no need. We’re on the move again,
away from their eerie shadows, but they’re always out there. Always
moving, never sleeping, always creeping. We’re never quite
free.

They’re always
waiting for our weak moment.

We slip through
Malvern and Armadale stations, making pretty good time. The sun is
high in the sky and at this rate (hopefully) we’ll be at Melbourne
Central before the end of the day.

And then, like
I’ve jinxed myself, our vehicle stops at Toorak station.

There’s nowhere
to go. Marooned trains sit on every line.

“We’ll go on
foot from here,” Jacob says.

We don’t object
in the backseat, because it’s pretty clear there’s no other way.
Part of me wants to stay in the car forever, where it’s safe and
familiar, but another part wants to burst out into the open,
kicking infected in the face, punching them my with bare fists, not
caring if they swarm around me. I’m two people inside, so extreme
and opposite. Somewhere along the way I’ve lost all my in-between.
I lost it when I lost Liss. I guess it’s easy to be fearless when
the thing upon which you judge the value of your life no longer
exists.

“Weapons?”
Jacob asks.

“I’ve got some
heavy piping I found in the garage. It’s in the boot. And there’s a
crowbar under your seat.”

I slip out of
the car and shoulder my backpack. The others head to the back, for
weapons, while I survey the scene. I take a deep breath and look
across the soaring blue sky. Seamless. Faultless. Leading all the
way into the city full of horrors—the last place a normal human
being would want to go. But darkness draws in darkness. And I am
nothing but dark.

“Florence, you
want your gun?” Jacob asks.

I turn and give
him a long hard stare. “Uh, no thanks.”

“I’ll show you
how to use it.”

I shake my head
as I join them. “No thanks. I prefer something more…” My voice
trails off when I catch sight of the metal pipes.

“Tactile?”
Jacob says.

“I was going to
say quiet,” I say. I think, though, that it’s a remnant of my time
alone with Liss. I never wanted her to have to use a gun, or give
her the chance to have an accident with one. Not that I found any
on our journey, but my mind was made up from the start. We only
ever played defence. And maybe I know that you can’t ever win if
your only thought is to protect your goals. Sometimes you have to
step forward. Still I draw the line at guns. I’d just waste the
bullets.

I look up at
Jacob. He’s watching me.

Kean hands me a
piece of heavy pipe. It’s long and thin, kind of like a blunt
sword. Trouble weighs the crowbar in his hands and seems
satisfied.

“
Someone
else has to carry a gun.” Jacob looks between us. “This is getting
ridiculous.”

Jacob holds a
black handgun out for Trouble. Trouble stares for a moment, then
takes it and begins inspecting it. Jacob grabs a holster from a
secret stash in his four-wheel drive and straps it to Trouble’s
thigh.

“There’s one
taped under the vehicle. Any takers?”

I shake my
head.

Jacob shrugs
and quickly shows Trouble how to shoot.

“Alright, let’s
move. There’s a better view point from the platform.” Jacob keeps
one gun out and his other in the back of his cargo pants. No one
touches the gun taped under the four-wheel drive.

“I can’t
believe we’re walking,” Kean says under his breath as he climbs up.
He tucks his metal pipe under his arm and helps me up.

We walk along
side the train, dropping naturally into single file, all happy to
let Jacob lead. I go second, Kean third, and Trouble takes the
rear.

There’s a soft
wind rustling everything it touches. The back of Jacob’s white
t-shirt is marked with sweat. His boots are quiet; his steps
controlled and alert. The silver train body radiates heat and a
sneaky glare reflects off its closed carriage doors. I don’t dare
peer in the windows. I can imagine what covers the floors. We pass
beneath the shelter, into the relief of the shade. Jacob looks
ahead. I check out the brick building… wondering if this trip won’t
be so bad.

I should know
better. I really should.

The infected
man doesn’t make a sound as he lunges at us. He’s a skinny one with
ferocious, desperate eyes. Flesh hangs from his face like shreds of
fabric drying on a clothesline. He’s hungry and weak and falling
apart. The moment I see him, I scuttle back, retreating until my
back hits the train and my foot almost falls through the gap at the
edge of the platform. I panic and wrench my foot out, and in the
process I drop my weapon.

Jacob takes out
the infected man before my weapon even hits the ground; a knife to
the eye. I didn’t even know he was carrying one.

And when my bar
clangs to the concrete, obscenely loud, it starts rolling away from
me. I watch from my crouch position. Everyone watches it,
transfixed, grinding along the concrete. Rolling, rolling, like
it’s got an engine and it’s never going to stop. Scraping along the
platform, past the carriages, past the open door. Making a
horrendous sound.

Nobody dares to
move.

A curious head
jerks out of an open carriage door, following the bar like a dog on
a scent trail. The bar comes to the slowest stop ever and the
infected comes out slowly, staggering, confused.

Jacob is about
to take it out. I stand up. The infected twists at my sudden
movement, and stares straight at me. It screeches something awful,
like air pulling through rotting vocal chords, and there’s movement
everywhere. Infected spill from the open carriage door, pushing the
screeching one down and trampling him.

Suddenly
there’s noise everywhere, more infected coming down the ramp onto
the platform, following the only interesting sound for kilometres.
And within seconds our quiet train station is transformed into rush
hour.

“Get back to
the car!” Kean yells.

I start
running; Kean and Trouble are just in front of me. I expect to hear
gunshots behind but there’s nothing. So I glance over my shoulder,
just as Jacob comes diving at me.

“Under the
train,” Jacob yells, before grabbing my shoulders and pulling me
through the gap between the carriages. We fall together awkwardly,
clearing the metal couplings and diving onto stones. We scramble to
right ourselves under the glare of the sun. I catch glimpses of
infected just throwing themselves off the platform and storming
over the fallen.

I snap around,
searching for the others. Kean jumps through a gap three carriages
down, followed by Trouble. We’re all trapped in a narrow corridor
between two trains. I start chasing after Jacob and the others
chase me.

Jacob stops
suddenly and I run into his back. The infected block off the exit
and worm their way towards us. I look back but it’s the same thing
at the other end.

Kean gives me
this look across the distance that’s unmistakable. One last look, a
keepsake, just in case.

Jacob slides
under the train and my world goes horizontal as he pulls me with
him. I scramble towards the wheels so I’m hidden enough and I check
behind for Kean and Trouble. They’re tucked away under the same
train, just further back and facing away from me.

I turn back.
Jacob’s face is right in mine. We’re lying between the tracks, on
our stomachs. He puts his finger to his lips, just as the infected
reach us. They run past, roaring and screeching and trampling any
infected that trips.

I just lie
there, frozen, centimetres away from death. We’re surrounded.
There’s no way up onto the platform from here. The infected swarm
around the trains, filling all the gaps like sealant.

I ball my hands
up and stare at the ground, and suddenly, silently, I begin to
cry.

WE LIE UNDER
the trains for I don’t know how long. It seems endless and instant
at the same time. I can’t stop my eyes from watering, or my lips
from trembling, or my hands from shaking, but I stay perfectly
silent.

And Jacob just
watches me. I guess he can’t really look anywhere else, since we’re
face to face, but the really frustrating thing is that it’s
impossible to tell what he’s thinking. I don’t see fear or sympathy
or pity or regret in his features. I don’t see anything at all. He
might as well be a different species to me.

All we can do
is wait. The infected don’t understand where we’ve gone and
eventually they’ll wander off or spread out enough for us to make a
run for it. To head back to the car. There’s no way we can keep
going.

After a while
things seem to settle and the air goes quiet. They’re still there,
walking around, bumping into things and moaning for their lost
feed, but the frenzy is over. Trampled infected litter the ground
around us.

My hands still
tremble. I know, deep in my bones, deep in the chasm of my heart,
that in doing this I’m risking Kean and Trouble’s lives. And that
even if I do go home, things will never be the same again. I’m torn
between chasing the vengeance that I need and protecting the people
that I love.

“We have to go
back,” I whisper to Jacob, glancing around to make sure I’m not
attracting any attention. “We can’t make it. This is crazy. I
can’t… I can’t watch anyone else die. I can’t.”

I thought I was
strong. I thought I’d become cold and hard and fearless, but when
it comes down to it, all I am is weak. Far weaker than I’ve ever
been. And I know this because I jumped on that platform when I was
scared, because I let my weapon get away from me. We survived as a
team before because we were strong, we were honest, we were crushed
together tight as bricks, holding each other in place. But now
we’re missing some of our pieces, and I’m the broken one, on which
the lives of my family now balance. And I know now, that it’s not a
case of if I fall apart completely, but when.

And when I do
everyone will die. Kean and Trouble and Henry. And then me.

“We have to go
back,” I whisper again. “It’s not safe.”

Jacob looks
away and says in a voice designed to set the safe maximum volume of
this conversation, “Don’t. Anger is better right now.” He looks
back, his dark eyes boring into mine. “I’ve been there. Anger will
drive you, will push you through. Sadness will only slow you down.
So you find wherever your anger went, you find it and you drag it
back, and you use it.”

Jacob jimmies a
second gun from the back of his cargos and I just watch as he
places it into my shaking hands. I don’t pull away, I even don’t
resist. The cold moment surprises me. Jacob puts my finger on the
trigger and points it at his forehead. We’re so close, I can’t pull
away without making noise.

“Safety’s on,”
he whispers, staring at me. He points to the side. “Black is safe.
Red is dead.”

Jacob clicks
the little slide and a red dot appears.

My mouth moves
but my vocal chords are cemented with shock. The gun trembles.

“Where did that
anger go?”

I swallow.
“You’re crazy.”

“You want an
out? This is it. All you have to do is pull back, just a few
millimetres, and see what happens.” Jacob’s face is calm but his
eyes are wild. “Go on. Take the easy way out.” He holds the barrel
against his skin. “If you want to leave you might as well kill me
now. You have the power.”

I swallow but
hold very still. “I don’t want it.”

“But you have
it, and there’s no getting away from it. I don’t understand you.
The others do what you do, they follow your lead. You have the
power to keep them safe with a few guns, yet you ignore them.”

Every muscle in
my body aches from the tension. “Well I don’t understand you either
because you’re just insane.”

“Am I?” He
looks down. I follow his gaze. My hands have stopped shaking.
They’re completely and utterly still on the cold metal.

I narrow my
eyes.

“Its amazing
what a little control can do,” Jacob says.

I think about
this for a moment, then point the barrel away from Jacob and put
the safety back on. “Isn’t it?”

Jacob smiles.
“Reject this all you want, but sooner or later it’ll catch up with
you.”

I place his gun
on the ground between us. “It should be my choice how I want to
live my life, not the world’s, and definitely not yours.”

Jacob stares at
me, his dark eyes set upon seriousness. “Your sister’s dead. Your
family, my family, their families — all dead and gone. One day we
will be too. Are you going to flee back to your cage when things
get real and just wait it out? Or are you going to
do
something? Change something? Are you going to make your sister’s
life mean something? Make all those other deaths mean
something?”