Box Set - Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

Elle's life is stretched before me, a series of highs and lows like the fragile line on a heart monitor. I feel the vice-like grip of her fingers around my wrist but can't turn my head to see her. There is only the stark white landscape of her mind, and the flashing journey of her memories.

There are hospital beds and blank white rooms. Seas of crying relatives and a fierce sense of loneliness that grips my chest like the start of a cardiac arrest.

With an explosion of colour, the line comes to an end. The image of an enormous, vaulted room with a dinosaur skeleton in the centre rushes to greet us. She's taken us to the Natural History Museum.

I rocket forward, Elle loses grip of me and I collapse to the ground, feeling the sharp contact on my hands and knees.

'Why is he following us?' I say, now used to the feeling of the Edge. 'That was so cool, Elle,' I say, getting up. 'Superheroes have nothing on you.'

Elle is looking to her side though, biting one of her nails. 'I think I might have killed him,' she says, looking down at the floor.

Graham lies, spread eagled on the floor, beside a case with a large skeleton of a prehistoric mammal. Its body is encased in a huge, domelike shell like an armadillo, only it stands as tall as us. Luckily, there's no one over at this exhibit at the moment. With a cough that sounds like a first breath after almost drowning, Graham starts to life and sits up sharply.

'Holy crap,' he says.

'Oh thank God,' Elle gasps, clutching her chest. 'He's cool. And thank you, for future reference, when referring to me, you must precede my name with either 'The Amazing', or 'The Incredible.'

'Fine by me,' I say clapping her softly on the back. She smiles.

'I travelled!' she says like she's just driven without her L plates for the first time.

As Graham splutters on the floor, I grin and we hug, relieved to have escaped.

'Can he see us?' Elle asks, waving a hand in front of his face. 'I'm taking that as a no,' she says, disappointed as he continues to stare around the room. A few people are starting to look at him considering he's still sitting on the floor next to the large black case I dropped.

'Your Edge looks so different to mine,' I say. 'I feel so scared I'll get trapped in mine.'

'Maybe that says something about your fears,' she says, 'they overrule your waking mind.' She sighs, smiling at the same time. 'Everyone always says life comes to an end with a light at the end of the tunnel. Maybe that only happens to people whose lives were filled with happiness. When I died, it felt like a birth. The light at the end of the tunnel ruled my life, it surrounded me with every waking second. It feels so good to be free of it, Easton. I see the colour of life, now. I don't have a reason to be scared of it.'

‘I wish we could know more about it,’ I say. ‘Do you know anyone who does?’

‘Not that I’ve come across,’ she says. ‘People just seem happy with the freedom. Maybe that was the problem with the living world? We were too busy labelling everything and finding out the tiniest details to remember what’s important.’

I fight with the possibility. I’ve lived my life labelling things; placing the things that interested me most on a shelf in my mind in carefully marked jars so I could access them when I needed them. Is freedom from that a good thing? I can’t believe that the likes of Newton, Einstein and Darwin, great scientific minds simply died and gave up their life’s work. Where are they now though?

‘Here,’ Elle says, reaching into a pocket on her dress. She draws out a notebook and pen. ‘I write great 10 word epics of fiction in my spare time, tell Graham what’s going on.’

I look down and realise that my friend looks an uncomfortable combination of ill and confused. His revelation of only minutes ago now still resonates in my ears. He loves me. But he never even gave any indication that he was gay, let alone in love with me. I suppose his perpetual lack of a girlfriend was a slight clue, although lack of girlfriend by no means confirms being gay.

I explained briefly what happened in Rome back in Mecca for nerds. Quickly, I write on the note-paper.

‘We’re still here. Starbright Man must have followed us. We need to find how he did that to himself.’

‘How did you do that?’ he asks. ‘It felt like…well I don’t know what it felt like. Easton, about what I said…’

I hastily scribble on the paper.‘Don’t worry about it, you had to tell me. I wish I could say more.’

He nods his head. ‘I always knew you loved Penny and there was no hope, but you don’t really get that kind of second chance,’ he says. ‘After people die.’

I nod, then realise he can’t see me. ‘Let’s find out what happened to him, then maybe we can talk in person.’

He nods himself. ‘Where to next? And why did he follow us?’

I turn to Elle. ‘Good question. Do you think there’s any chance he wants our help?’

‘Oh yeah, the exploding comics looked like a cry for help,’ she scoffs.

‘Maybe he can’t help it?’ I say.

‘Oh Easton,’ she sighs. ‘Why do you always sympathise with the people who try to kill us?’

'This is the first time!' I protest.

 She narrows her eyes. 'Alright,' she says. 'You win this round. You just have that kind of face.'

 'I know you guys are talking,' Graham says, apparently to no one. 'Give me the occasional nudge to let me know you're still there.'

 Elle reaches to the side and slaps him on the backside. He shudders violently. 'Or you know, maybe not,' he says as he recovers. 'Can we go somewhere more private? I feel like a crazy person.'

 'I have an idea,' I say to Elle. I scribble on the paper. 'If the Starbright Man is following us, then he must be following me as I'm the one who made contact with his handprint in Rome. The last place he'll expect us to go is back to where he last found us.'

 'Oh by the way,' Graham says as my note appears out of thin air in front of him. 'You owe me about ten grand for all my stuff.'

 Elle snatches the pad. 'Get stuffed, rich boy. Dead folk don't have deep pockets.'

 'This must be Elle,' Graham says as the next note greets him. He's forming quite a collection. 'Won't going back to my house be dangerous? We don't know how quickly he can follow us?'

 'We'll have to risk it, we need to find out how to stop him quickly, and that's where the trail's fresh,' I write. 'Are you ready?'

 'No,' he replies, stretching out his hand. 'Let's go.'

 'Take the lead, science boy,' Elle says, taking my other hand, grabbing the black case at the same time.

 I screw up my eyes, holding them tightly, concentrating on Graham's basement.

 When I open them, I almost gasp at the destruction. To my side, Elle looks vaguely sickly, but now a little more used to travelling. Graham once again falls to the floor, spluttering.

 The room is covered with the pages of comics. A sharp pang of regret pulls at my stomach. To a lot of people it sounds silly, but to me, comics are special. They're places I used to go to escape in times I felt lonely. When I was tormented by bullies I'd turn to my favourite superhero, enacting adventures and being strong, brave and humble when I was unable. Seeing them in such a state of destruction is like seeing all my friends in pain.

 Over towards the stairs, the pool table lies in half, the balls freed from inside scattered across the room. The flatscreen harbours an enormous crack down its centre, and over by the stairs, most obviously, sits a still-smoking scorch mark on the floor, as though a rocket has just taken off leaving destruction behind it.

 'We have to work quickly,' I say, opening the case beside Elle.

‘What’s in the case?’ Elle asks, peering over my shoulder.

‘A few things,’ I explain. ‘I think finding out what’s happened to the Starbright Man should be relatively easy, I already have a theory.’

‘Would you care to enlighten me?’Elle says. ‘Fear not, I’m nought but thoughts these days, I should understand.’

‘I think he’s caught himself between a living state and a dying state,’ I reply. ‘The fact that we can exist in two different states on earth means we’re partly made of the same stuff, just altered in some way. If he’s tried to change his molecular structure, then he may have split all the atoms in his body. If we don’t stop him then we may find more of a mess than comic books on the floor.’

Elle’s eyes widen. ‘And you didn’t feel it necessary to tell me that we’re being followed by an atom bomb?’

‘I was going to tell you,’ I plead.

‘Before or after the nuclear apocalypse?’

‘Sometime during maybe?’ I smile, appealing to her nature. ‘Come on, we can’t change what he’s done, but we can put it right.’

‘On future mysteries,’ she says, crouching beside me, ‘I’d like to be consulted on all things nuclear related.’

‘Noted,’ I say, extracting what looks like a tape recorder from the box. It’s small, black, with what looks like a spiral telephone chord extending out the side with a microphone at the end.

‘That’s a Geiger counter,’ Elle says. ‘Don’t look surprised, science boy. I have boobs and a brain, you know.’

Graham looks up from the floor. ‘I know what you’re doing,’ he croaks. ‘You’ll need the EMF won’t you.’

He doesn’t wait for a reply. As I start waving the Geiger counter around the room, he starts to search through the other boxes under the desk. The device in my hands starts to click violently, the display on the front showing traces of radioactive activity.

‘That’s not dangerous is it?’Elle asks, watching.

‘Not in such small amounts,’ I reply. ‘And not to us.’

‘Yeah, I was thinking more about the rest of the planet.’

Graham’s found another device and stands, fiddling with it. ‘Okay, this baby’s ready to fly.’

‘Don’t ask,’ I say, as Elle opens her mouth.

Graham’s device emits a click and he starts moving it around the room, slowly. As he gets close to us he gasps. ‘Is that you?’ he asks. I reach out to touch his arm, giving him a shudder of confirmation.

‘You’re here, you’re real!’ he exclaims, almost jumping for joy.

‘Where else am I going to be, genius?’ I say. ‘You’re a bad influence,’ I continue, looking at Elle.

‘You have learned well, grasshopper,’ she replies. ‘How does that device detect us?’

‘A lot of people think ghosts emit an electromagnetic field,’ I say. ‘I don’t know for sure, but I’m guessing that as we leave our bodies behind, our body’s natural electrical force gets released somehow so it becomes easier to detect.’

Graham’s eyes light up.

‘What are you thinking?’ I say, wishing we were telepathically connected.

He starts rummaging around again, finally extracting a box that looks like a car battery. Tripping over his feet as he goes, he finds a plug in the wall.

‘Oh, that’s brilliant,’ I state.‘That’s an ionizer, it changes the static charge of air particles. At the moment, the air’s masking us, stopping us from appearing. But if Graham changes the charge in the air…’

‘We can appear,’ Elle finishes, her face lighting up. ‘See why don’t they teach you this kind of stuff in school?’

Graham takes a breath as though ionizing the air will feel like being plunged under the water.

The machine whirs to life and then emits a short squeal. The change is instantaneous. First it feels like a static shock, the same prickle I feel when I close my eyes and see the Edge world around me. Then the air feels more free, like I’ve been buried alive and I’ve just clawed my way to the surface.

‘Easton,’ Graham gasps.

‘You can see us!’ It feels as though someone has had their hand clenched around my heart for the past two days. Now I’m seen again by a living friend, the hand releases.

‘You sound like you’re behind glass,’ Graham says.

‘The air must be un—ionizing,’ I say. ‘Zap it again.’

‘There’s no way ‘un-ionizing’ is a word,’ Elle says.

The machine squeals again.

‘Keep it going every 30 seconds or so,’ I say. ‘The air around this room will change the charge back and we’ll disappear.’

‘Hold on,’ he says. He opens his laptop a little too violently, sending a beaker crashing to the floor. He plugs the ionizer in by USB and starts tapping away.

I turn and jump out of my no skin. A man, the wild haired man in a moleskin coat, is standing in the room, in the spot where the Starbright Man disappeared.

‘Find the book,’ he says. His words are strangled, like there are hands clasped around his windpipe. ‘Find the book.’

Elle jumps seeing him there.

‘Who are you?’ I demand.

He looks at me, squinting his eyes from some kind of pain. He opens his mouth, two words straining to be heard: ‘Robin Thacker.’

‘Robin Thacker? The author Robin Thacker,’ I say, taking a quick step towards him.

‘I’m so scared,’ he whimpers. ‘This was a mistake, a huge mistake. They told me…they told me not to.’

‘What’s your name?’ Elle asks, her voice soothing.

‘Teague,’he replies. There are tears pooling in his eyes. His voice is thick as though his throat is coated in honey. ‘It hurts, it hurts so much.’

‘We can help,’ I say. ‘Graham, keep zapping the ionizer.’

‘It’s like we’re on TV,’ Graham says, laughing. ‘Remember that show, Supernova? “Engine’s are at maximum”.’ He quotes in a dramatic American accent.

Elle turns around. ‘When we get the this fixed, we’re having a talk,’ she says to him.‘Otherwise you’re never going to get any.’

‘How did you know?’ he asks, voice going squeaky.

‘It’s not rocket science, Graham.’

Teague looks more and more scared with each passing second.

‘How did this happen, Teague?’ I ask. ‘And what’s Robin Thacker got to do with it?’

‘I-I was experimenting,’ he says. ‘All I want is to find my wife. She’s out there somewhere, I knew it. Just out of reach. I’d sit at home and I’d hear things you know? Then I see the page of this book on the internet, a book by Thacker….please, you’ve got to help me, I’ll do anything you want if you stop it hurting.’

‘What does it feel like?’ Elle turns her attention away from Graham. She talks like a doctor, caring for him.

‘Like…’ He winces. ‘It’s like I’m being burned, over and over again, all over my body.’

‘How did you do it?’ she asks. ‘It’s to do with your molecules isn’t it.’

He nods vigorously. He scratches all over his body. I don’t know what state he’s in at the moment, living or dead.

Elle turns to, raising her eyebrows. ‘See, I catch on quick.’

‘I built this machine,’ he says. ‘You have an ionizer? The charge is the key, you have to find the exact frequency. We’re all different forms of matter….Please, I haven’t got much time, you have to stop it.’

‘What do I do?’ Graham asks, desperately. ‘Easton, what’s going to happen.’

‘Please!’Teague shouts. ‘Please, 5001 hertz!’

‘Graham, do it,’ I say.

‘Hold on, hold on,’ Graham says, tapping away on the keyboard.

Teague doubles over in pain. His wild hair hangs over his eyes masking his face. He holds his hands to his chest as though it’s about to burst open.

He wrenches his torso backwards. The scream that escapes his lips is piercing, like a scared child. Light erupts from his mouth and behind his eyes, blue light that cascades across his skin from their points of origin. Light that burns and cracks and works its way like a disease.

‘Done!’Graham says. The ionizer whirs, whining to a level I can no longer hear.

Teague jerks and there’s a crack, and a flash brighter than the sun.