Voices in Stone (16 page)

They were about a mile from the quarry entrance when they came to a long queue of almost stationary traffic. Stu slapped the steering wheel and launched into furious muttering.

“It’s Thursday afternoon! What are you all doing? Come on, we haven’t got all day.”

Isis and Gray were squashed in the back between the clutter. Stu had moved all the papers, bags, plastic boxes, shoes, long bits of metal and other assorted junk onto the front seat in an attempt to make room for an extra person in his car, but they were still surrounded. In her seat, Isis could only find the ragged end of a seat belt, the clips cut off it.

“Oh, yeah. I cut the seat belts,” said Stu, when she showed him, “to make it easier when the seats are down.” He tried to pull a cardboard box from the footwell, but gave up and stamped it flat instead. “You could always brace with your legs. Don’t worry, I’m a very careful driver. The quickest way to get onto their system is to be stopped for a traffic offence.”

Any other time, any other trip, she would have refused to travel without a seat belt, but Isis could feel the twitch of invisible fingers, pulling at her from the hills outside town.

No, not fingers.

It was like trying to remember a forgotten name; somewhere beneath her mind she knew what was really calling to her, but she didn’t have the vocabulary to phrase it.

They were inching along in the traffic jam when Angel materialised between Isis and Gray.

“You still a meany,” she announced. “I still not playing with you! And you go-ed off without saying!”

Isis realised she hadn’t even left a note for Cally. After this, Cally probably wouldn’t leave her alone in the flat until she was twenty. But it was Angel she cared about
now, and she spoke to her without noise, only moving her lips.

“Sorry.”

Angel’s face instantly cleared. Sorry always made things better, in her little world.

“It’s cold today,” said Stu, turning the heating up into a loud, petrol-smelling roar. The car didn’t get much warmer though, because of Angel.

Under cover of the heater’s noise, Gray spoke quietly. “When you first showed me Angel, I thought it’d be so cool to see stuff no one else can. But I hate it.” He looked out of the car window. “I didn’t know it would be so… frightening.”

Isis put her hand onto his, only lightly, barely touching him. “I was scared in the summer,” she said. “I thought I was crazy, but you believed me.”

Angel bounced up and down on the seat between them.

“He sad!” she said excitedly. “You got to tell him about our baby!”

Isis had forgotten about that for a minute or two, but now it came flooding back in all its life-jolting strangeness.

“Tell him!” Angel said. “Then he’ll be happy!”

Isis didn’t even shake her head, because there was no way she was going to. Cally might’ve made a mistake. It was in soaps all the time: a big fuss about a baby until it turns out no one’s really pregnant. Isis wasn’t going to say anything until it was definite, until there was no turning back.

Angel glared at her. “You
tell
!”

Isis glared back, trying to make Angel understand without actually speaking that this wasn’t the right time and Gray had enough on his mind.

Angel looked furious.

“I do it then!” she shouted, putting her hand on top of Isis’s, quickly sliding her fingers between Isis and Gray’s with a freezing wriggle.

Gray gasped, his eyes jolting wide open.

“Mummy having a BABY!” Angel shouted, right in his face.

Isis snatched her hand away, but she knew it was too late.

Gray stared at Isis, unable to see Angel who was dancing in between them and singing, “We got a baby brother,” to the tune of her fishy song.

“Must be an accident on the road,” Stu muttered from the front. “There’s police up ahead. Oh come on, why do they have to talk to every
single
car driver?”

The car trundled another metre forwards. A policewoman was working her way down the queue, and the cars in front of them were doing three-point turns, going back the way they’d come.

“Is it Dad’s?” Gray whispered.

It took Isis a moment to realise what he meant. “Of course it is!”

“Sorry.” He put his hands over his face. “It’s just, you know, a lot.”

She nodded. It was.

“Baby, baby brother,” sang Angel.

Gray spoke through his fingers. “Do you think Dad and Cally will move in together?”

Isis stared at the policewoman in her bright reflective jacket. Of course Cally would want to be with Gil, and since Gil’s house was bigger… But Isis didn’t want that!

“How did this even
happen
?” she said.

Gray looked at her, and snorted. “Well, your mum and my dad love each other very much…”

“Oh!” She started to giggle. “No! Don’t make me even think about it!”

“Cally and Gil, sitting in the tree…” said Gray.

“Eugh! Shut up!” They were laughing, hysterical with it.

“What’s going on back there?” asked Stu.

Isis managed to stop, her cheeks aching.

“Me and Gray are going to be related,” she said, and it didn’t seem so bad, put that way.

“Are your parents getting
married?
” Stu’s voice squeaked up in amazement, sending Isis and Gray into more helpless laughter.

A knock at the window interrupted them. Stu pulled his anorak hood closer around his face and wound down the window.

“The road’s closed,” said the policewoman. “You’ll have to turn around.”

“Is it an accident?” asked Stu.

The policewoman shook her head. “There’s a problem ahead.”

“Problem?” Stu asked, his voice sharpening. “What’s that meant to mean?”

“There’s a protest up at the quarry which is causing
some disruption. Representatives from the mine are available if you have questions.” She pointed further up the road, to where Isis could just make out three people wearing high-visibility jackets with the UK-Earths logo.

“I do, actually,” said Stu.

The policewoman sighed, and raised her hand to wave at the group. One of the people began walking over, a woman. Next to Isis, Gray stiffened.

“That’s Dr Harcourt,” he hissed.

“Really?” Stu’s face lit up.

He turned back to the policewoman. “I know why you’re keeping the public out: so no one will find out what’s
really
going on.”

“I’ve told you what’s really going on,” said the policewoman, sounding tired. “Now if you go back about four miles, you’ll come to a turning…”

“I know my way!” said Stu. “I just don’t believe you. You’re doing their dirty work, aren’t you?”

The policewoman pursed her lips. “I’m directing traffic,” she said, just as Dr Harcourt arrived.

“Can I help?” she said brightly, until she got close enough to see inside the car. Her eyes widened a little, as if she
was shocked. “Oh. So. Um, do you have a question?” Her eyes were fixed on Gray and Isis.

“I do,” said Stu. “I’d like to know how you explain the large number of sightings in the vicinity of your mine.”

Dr Harcourt’s gaze snapped his way. “Sightings?”

“Of UFOs,” said Stu.

Isis expected Dr Harcourt to laugh, but she didn’t. Her eyebrows pulled together a little, her mouth stiffening out of its false smile. She was silent a moment, then she said, very pointedly. “These are your children, are they?”

“Yes,” said Stu.

“No,” said Isis and Gray together.

Now the policewoman frowned.

Stu gave a little laugh. “You know kids. Joking about.” He flicked a furious glance back at them. “Why did you say that?” he hissed.

“You’re not my dad,” said Gray.

“But I’m looking after you!” exploded Stu. “In
loco parentis
!” He glanced at the policewoman. “That’s what I meant, not that they’re related to me.”

Dr Harcourt checked her watch. “Shouldn’t they be in school?”

“I’m sick,” said Gray quickly.

Isis didn’t say anything; she couldn’t bear to tell a policewoman she’d been excluded. And it probably wouldn’t be a help, given the situation.

“You don’t look very sick,” the policewoman said to Gray.

“I… um…”

“He’s experiencing a psychotic breakdown,” Stu said, scowling at Dr Harcourt.

“Psychotic breakdown?”
said Gray.

“Yes!” said Stu. “He’ll probably have to go on sedatives and see a psychiatrist, and it’s all the result of exposure to toxic substances being released from
your
quarry!”

“This boy’s mental illness is nothing to do with toxic substances at UK-Earths’ quarry,” snapped Dr Harcourt, “because there are none! You are misinformed if that’s what you believe.” She flicked a glance at the policewoman, and let out a short, brittle laugh. “He thinks there are UFOs flying around. Are you going to take him seriously?”

“Please,” said Isis, leaning forwards. “Can’t we just turn around?” The stack of paper she was perched on top of
slid, pitching her forwards, so she fell almost between the seats.

“Are you wearing a seat belt?” asked the policewoman. She leaned her head through the car window. “Where are the seatbelts?”

“They, um…”

“Right, could you step out please?” The policewoman opened the driver’s door.

“I know my rights!” cried Stu, not moving.

The policewoman rolled her eyes, and spoke into the walkie-talkie on her shoulder. “Could I have some assistance, please? I’ve got a right one here.”

“You have no evidence!” Stu said to the policewoman. “I know what you’re up to, but they won’t get me that easy!”

The policewoman looked down at him. “I do have evidence,” she said. “It’s right here in your car. You have children sitting in the back, but no seat belts.”

“But I never have children in my car normally!” cried Stu. “This is the first time in years!”

“If you don’t get out of the car, I will be obliged to additionally charge you with failure to comply with an officer’s directions.”

“Additionally?” sputtered Stu, flinging himself out. His anorak hood fell backwards, but he didn’t seem to notice. “Don’t you see you’re doing her dirty work?” He pointed dramatically at Dr Harcourt. “This country is in the grip of a takeover by malign forces!”

“I wouldn’t know about that,” said the policewoman.

Dr Harcourt was ignoring them, her eyes on Gray and Isis. “Shouldn’t they get out as well?” she asked, a nasty triumph in her voice. “I could take them up to our offices and give them… biscuits. Look after them until you can sort this all out.”

The policewoman threw a surprised glance at her. “I don’t think that will be necessary.” She leaned into the car again, now taking in Isis with her eyes red from all the crying she’d done earlier, and Gray obviously frightened.

“We’re here of our own accord,” Isis said nervously.

“All the same,” said the policewoman. “Perhaps you should get out.”

Gray’s face was tight with strain, a sheen of sweat gleaming across his brow.

“I don’t think I can,” he whispered.

“You’re going to accuse me of abducting them, aren’t
you?” cried Stu. “Silencing truth-seekers with scandal. Well it won’t work, not on me!”

“I wonder why the children want to stay in the car?” said Dr Harcourt, her tone insinuating and sly.

“We better get out,” Isis said to Gray.

He nodded, opening his door, but he moved as if stepping out to his doom.

As soon as Isis’s foot touched the ground, the air seemed to fill with the rushing sounds of the wind, even though she couldn’t see a leaf or blade of grass moving. Angel popped out alongside her and let out a little squeak.

“It too big,” she said, before vanishing back into the car.

Gray made a noise, and Isis turned. He was pressed against the other side of the car, eyes wide in his terrified face.

“Are you all right?” said Dr Harcourt, a false kindness in her voice. She turned to the policewoman. “I could take them up to the quarry offices, wait for their
real
parents to turn up.”

“Don’t you go anywhere near them!” shouted Stu. “I know what you’re up to!”

Another police car pulled up, and two policemen got out of it.

“Is it
them
?” Isis asked Gray, although she still didn’t know what Gray could see, or why she couldn’t.

He nodded.

“I think the children are ill,” said Dr Harcourt. “We have a medical station, and several trained first-aiders.”

Isis walked around the car, her feet seeming to swirl colours out of the tarmac. She shook her head. She knew she wasn’t seeing what was really there.

“I’d be happy to take them up to our offices,” said Dr Harcourt, walking around the car in the opposite direction to Isis.

“No you don’t!” shouted Stu, moving to block her, his hands up in something like a karate pose.

“Stop that!” shouted the policewoman, and now the policemen were running, hurtling in to grapple Stu, pulling him back while he flailed at Dr Harcourt.

“Can’t you see? She’s one of them! Where’s the rest of your
Organisation
, Dr Harcourt? Is that even your name?”

Gray was wide-eyed and pale beside the car, not even watching the scene going on behind him. Isis spotted a small, unfenced spinney of trees, just ahead on the road.
She knew the way now, in the part of her that wasn’t using words.

She took another step, leaned close and whispered in Gray’s ear.

“Run.”

I didn’t look, didn’t think, I was just running. One foot after another, fast then faster.

“Stop!” shouted Dr Harcourt.

“Don’t stop!” yelled Stu. “Don’t let her get you! You’ll wake up tomorrow and you won’t
remember any of this
!”

I don’t even know what Stu thought was happening, I only knew I couldn’t stay still, not with them everywhere.

They were with me as soon as I got out of Stu’s car. Hundreds of them, walking towards me from the road, standing by the hedges, surrounding us. It was like a hall of mirrors, except reflections don’t move and call out. They don’t reach for you, crying,
Listen! Listen! Listen!

I thought,
This is a dream, isn’t it?
I even squeezed my
eyelids shut, hoping I’d wake up. But all those versions of me were still there when I opened my eyes. So many of them. Like zombies in the films, their words blending into a solid murmur:
Listenlistenlistenistenlistenlistenlistenlisten
.

“Run!” whispered Isis.

I thought,
Are you crazy?
But what else was there? Stu was going mental, that Dr Harcourt was getting creepier and creepier. And also Isis knows this stuff, better than Dad, better than Stu. They’re all about the theories, but Isis lives it.

We raced up the verge and into the trees. Air burned in my throat, but I was only thinking about keeping ahead of the mirror-mes. I had to swerve and dodge to keep out of their grasp, my heart slamming every time one of them came reaching for me.

There’d been hundreds on the road, but more were stepping from behind trees, as if they were sprouting out of the ground, and they all had my face. Me a few years ago; me taller than I am now; crawling baby versions of me; toddlers with little grabbing fingers. Me with greying hair; me as an old man, hardly able to walk.

I started panicking that I was going to find myself as a
corpse, its dead hand reaching for me. I ran. Trying not to get caught by one of them, trying not to trip on tree roots or crash into low branches.

“Do you know where you’re going?” I gasped at Isis.

“That way!” And we broke from the trees into a wide grassy field, with the sky bright above us and the hills curving. My feet thudded into the rough grass, and it was easier and quicker now, the ground sloping away.

I looked behind and I thought,
We’re going to make it – we’re leaving them.

Then I turned my head back. In front of us were hundreds of people scattered across the field. A blink and it was thousands. A me for every day I’ve been alive, for every day I’m going to be. All with their hands outstretched and eyes as black as space. Calling, shouting, crying, their words blending like storm waves crashing on a beach.

Huuuuurrrrttttinnngpleeeeeeezzemeeeeestopppp.

I stumbled. Couldn’t swallow, couldn’t catch my drumming heart, couldn’t think. I looked back, and now there were as many mirror-mes behind us.

There wasn’t a space between them, nowhere to escape through.

“Do you see?” I whispered to Isis.

“Yes,” she said, at last.

“What do we do? How do we stop them?” I thought she’d know, but she didn’t even answer. They closed in, shrinking the circle of grass between them and us, and I realised she wasn’t looking at them, she was staring at the ground. She put her hands in front of her eyes, waving her fingers.

“What are you
doing
?”

“I…” She flickered her fingers in front of her face. “No!” She stumbled back a step.

“What? What is it?”

Now there was no space left. I was trapped in a wide open field, the crowds closing in. Everywhere I looked, my face. Whichever way I looked, I saw me looking back. So many versions of me, but all with those torn-out, black-hole eyes. And still I thought Isis must be doing something, saving us, like when she broke open the Devourer. Then she spoke again.

“You’re hurting me,”
she whispered.
“It hurts.”

A horrible shaky feeling started in my legs and went up through my stomach, into my heart.

“Isis?”

She looked at me, but she’d gone. Her eyes were black stars, just like them.

“Isis!”

A hand, my hand, reached out to grab me. There was no space left. There were fingers on my cheeks, my nose, in my hair, pulling at my arms, my clothes. I punched and twisted and kicked, but even as I tried to beat them back, the creatures only gripped tighter. I couldn’t get away, I couldn’t fight them off. I couldn’t see anything but reaching hands.

They pulled me under.