Above the Vaulted Sky - Page 111

                We jerk to a stop and Teague flies forward to sprawl on the polished floor.

                ‘Some warning would have been lovely,’ he sneers.

                ‘Come on,’ I ignore him. ‘We’ve got to find Central Park.’

                ‘Some insight into your plans would be greatly appreciated,’ he says, pulling himself to his feet and dusting off his jacket. The morning sunshine falls through the windows of the station, a serene sight that contrasts the commuter chaos around us. I wonder is this place ever quiet?

                ‘The less you know the better,’ I say. ‘You’ll forgive me, but when someone tries to kill me and acts like it’s no big deal, I tend to get a little guarded.’

                Teague puts his hands up, palms facing outwards. ‘Just trying to help.’

                ‘You were helping yourself,’ I say. ‘Don’t make out like you were doing any different.’

                We march through the station. I let people pass through me, part of me feels bad as I see some of them shudder. Teague still dodges around them, bound by the mind-set of the living.

                ‘So this Penny,’ he says.

                I glare at him. So he’s seen more than he lets on in my thoughts. I feel a prickle on the back of my neck.

                ‘Do you think you’ll find her again?’

                ‘Why do you care?’

                ‘Just making conversation,’ he replies. ‘Must everything we say be a verbal duel?’

                ‘Yes, if you must know, I do,’ I say.

                ‘And why do you say that?’ Now he sounds like a therapist. How many more irritating personas does this man possess?

                ‘Because I think people always come together when they should,’ I say, because I do. I’ve known me and Penny were a fit from that first day by the smoking hut, nothing’s changed. People always said that the ones you love appear when they’re supposed to, not when you need them. I’ve come to realise that this is true. Not that it stops me wanting to see them now. I feel a sudden need to see my Mum and Dad. Maybe it’s because my memory of this place is so connected to them, maybe I just need a friendly face from the world of the living.

                ‘And yet you refuse to believe in anything after this life.’

                ‘I’m implementing a three strikes and I begin to hit you rule,’ I say as we emerge into the daylight. ‘I’d advise you don’t test it.’