The Children Of The Mist (4 page)

‘So,' he said, ‘what do you think?'

She shrugged. ‘It's pretty tame.'

Zest rolled his eyes. ‘Not the site, doofus. Those.' He pointed.

Confused, Morven looked back at the site. There was nothing else to see except the two buildings. The largest, three stories high, concrete, almost at lock up stage. The other, about twenty metres away, smaller, less finished. Just a flat roof and concrete slab walls. What the hell?

And then she got it. It was awesome-seriously scary-but awesome. She stepped back and stared at Zest. ‘Are you serious?'

‘Does a koala poop in the bush?'

It did. Morven turned and eyeballed the site once more. She didn't doubt for a minute that Zest could do it. But she wasn't so sure about herself. It was serious shit. While she knew that the jump was possible, stopping before she slid over the edge of the lower building was less certain. A girl could get killed that way.

She stepped right up against the fence, laced her hands into the wire and pushed her face into the cold links. ‘I can't,' she said.

Zest stepped up beside her, so close she could feel the heat emanating from his body. ‘Yes, you can,' he said.

Slowly she turned her face, until her right cheek was pressed against the wire and her eyes looked directly into his. In the dark his green eyes were black and shiny like pieces of wet coal.

‘Trust me, Morven,' he said.

As she waited for Zest to snip through the wire fence, Morven felt her senses stir. Maybe it was because the challenge ahead had her pumped. Exhilarated even. Once she'd made the decision all her fear had melted away, like sherbet lemons. All her senses felt strangely heightened. Despite the darkness she was aware of her surroundings. She could easily make out the rustling of the reeds on the edge of the river, and she heard something move sinuously through the water. She was sure that she could hear music from a ferry, even though none travelled so far down river. It could have been a private boat moored somewhere, of course. But still, she felt it was a ferry. Perhaps because she could catch the scent of cheap wine and cigarette smoke. Plus, although it was neither sight nor sound that told her, she just
knew
that somewhere out there was a large body of people. It was like she could lick the air and taste their hormones.

‘Morven, we're in.'

She turned and inspected the damage. Zest had peeled back the small section of clipped wire and held it out, creating a narrow gap. Dog rushed in and bounced neatly through it; on the other side he turned, made a small pouncing action toward them and wagged his tail. Morven reckoned Dog was lucky. No conscience at all. Life was just one big adventure. Trespassing didn't exist for him. Still, they weren't doing any harm. Not really.

As she squeezed through the gap her new shirt snagged on one of the small strands of residual wire. She tried to reach around to free it, but couldn't.

‘I got it.'

Good to his word, Zest plucked the cotton away and as he did, Morven became acutely aware of his closeness. She inhaled deeply. Washing powder, deodorant, jojoba soap, canvas, shampoo, toothpaste, aniseed and…Zest. For a moment she couldn't move, frozen by the weight of this sensory overload. Each and every inch of him broken down into separate smells. All good. All deeply intriguing. All deeply disturbing.

He tapped her on the shoulder. ‘Good to go, anytime soon.'

The sound of his voice, so familiar, so normal, acted as a catalyst. Really, she must get a grip. No one could possibly detect that many smells so clearly, so individually, so absolutely. It just wasn't possible.

‘Morven, move it!'

Zest's voice prodded her into action. Once she was through, she turned and pulled the wire back toward her, giving Zest access. It was harder for him, the breadth of his chest causing a brief bottleneck. But then he popped out like a cork from a bottle and collapsed at her feet, laughing helplessly.

‘Shit,' he said, ‘I thought you were going to have to call out the cavalry for a moment there.'

Morven grinned. ‘Serves you right for being such a fatty.' She forced herself to look at his face, even though she really wanted to check out his chest. Had she really never noticed how nice it was before? Had it always had such healthy dimensions or had he filled out lately? Really, she wasn't sure. She felt a brief ripple of disquiet. Tonight she seemed to be noticing a lot of things.

As they slipped through the shadows, past a donger, a set of Portaloos and a crane, she forgot her preoccupations. Close up, the three-story building seemed much taller.
Peering through a windowpane still crisscrossed with masking tape they saw it was empty inside, the concrete floor covered in grit and dust.. It had that slightly sad feel of all empty places. Morven tried the door, but it was locked. She hadn't really expected anything else. They moved on and had a look at the second building, its flat concrete roof pale in the moonlight. It was longer than she'd thought, which was good. Dog ran around exploring every nook and cranny.

A sudden noise made Morven freeze. She looked at Zest and was only half-reassured when she saw him turn and look in the direction of the sound. Somewhere back at the bigger building. It was a soft tap, tap, tap. Irregular and interspersed with a sound like someone unwinding sticky tape. Odd.

‘Do you hear that?' she whispered.

Zest gave her the oddest look. ‘What?'

‘That tapping and stuff.'

For a moment she stopped and listened again. At first she thought she had just imagined it, then, as she was about to shrug it off, it started again. ‘There,' she said, ‘over by the other building.'

Again, that look. ‘What do you hear?'

‘Tapping and a sound like, you know, sticky tape coming off a roll.'

Zest blinked, and his lips formed a silent word which Morven was certain rhymed with luck. He looked at her and then abruptly turned on his heel. ‘Come on,' he yelled.

Morven flinched at the volume of his voice. But there was something else, a certain something in his tone, half excited, half fearful. For a moment Morven felt a desire to leave the site. To get on her board and skate off down the path, back to the city. The night suddenly seemed vaguely threatening, and she felt an alien sense of vulnerability. Dog came streaking up to her, and woofed. The bark echoed off the buildings, making Zest's efforts feeble by comparison. Morven looked around fearfully. Nothing happened. No boogie man or — worse still — irate security guard. She just had the jitters. As Dog's voice finally stilled she pushed her paranoia aside and hastened after Zest.

At the far side of the completed building he stopped and waited patiently for her to arrive. ‘Can you hear it now?'

Morven listened. There it was. It was louder. Much louder. ‘Yes, I hear it.' She looked around trying to find whatever it was. The noise was so intense she must surely be able to see the source.

‘Morven, it's there.'

Morven looked to where Zest pointed, at the top of a large pane of glass. She looked, but could only see the blackness. ‘What?'

Zest took a step closer and tapped the glass up in the right hand corner. ‘There.'

Mystified, Morven moved closer. She stood on tiptoe and craned her neck scanning the window. After several seconds she sighed and shook her head. ‘Zest, what are you rabbiting on about? I can't see anything except a bloody spider.'

He did not reply. A bit irritated and out of patience with his cryptic behaviour, she looked at him demandingly. Still he did not speak.

‘What?' She was a bit cross now.

By way of reply he looked back up at the window. And then it started again. That noise. Mesmerised, Morven watched the spider as it worked at its web. The precise movements of its legs coordinated exactly with the extraction of a thread of silk and then the delicate weaving of the exotic trap. Morven could not believe what she was seeing and
hearing. It was impossible. It was mad. Or — more likely — she was mad. And then she turned to Zest. For, of course, if she were crazy, so was he.

‘You can hear that too?'

He grinned. ‘Yep.'

She looked back at the spider, which was still again. Her brain went into overdrive as she tried to find some rational explanation for this phenomenon. They'd been drugged. It was a dream. That was it. Of course, it was one of those weird dreams that were more real than reality. She'd wake up in a minute, deeply embarrassed by her unconscious and utterly unnatural interest in Zest's anatomy. That would explain the lady in the window and the castle in the river. A lot of stuff.

‘Morven, time's getting on. If we're going to do this thing, we'd best do it.'

Morven looked at Zest. At Dog. At the spider, busy once more. Intense. Really intense. And she knew she was just imagining it. It was a trick. The power of suggestion. She laughed. ‘Oh, very clever. You nearly had me going then.'

Zest shook his head and opened his mouth, then shut it again. He swung his bag off his shoulder and pulled out his lock pick. ‘Show time!'

The door was open in seconds. Once inside Zest went unhesitatingly across the room, through a small door and up a concrete set of steps, which Morven figured served as a fire escape. Dog scampered up ahead and the journey became a headlong flight for the finish. Zest cheated though and used his bigger frame to block Morven from passing. She tried to shove him aside but he just laughed at her. They burst through the top door giggling and gasping for breath. Dog eyed them disapprovingly.

Morven's humour evaporated as she looked around. The roof was smooth and hard, and big enough to build up the speed. She felt a strange sense of disconnection. As if the world had changed and she had been left behind. Or was it the other way around?

Any further speculation was cut short when she realised that Zest was already under steam. Her mouth went dry and her stomach turned into a clenched fist. And then it hit her. He was really going to do this thing. The unfinished shell of the building looked an ocean away. Panic stricken she knew she had to stop him. It was completely mad. Zest was going to kill himself.

But she realised it was too late. Zest wheeled around and flew down the centre of the surface. She let out a cry and called, ‘Zest, no!'

And then he flew past…and she stopped breathing.

Up, up, up he went. Like the Silver Surfer. For one mind-crunching moment Morven thought he was going to sail clean over the other building. And it hit her with almost physical force that Zest, indestructible Zest, may not be indestructible after all. But just as her throat began to close up, he was down. She heard his triumphant yell. And she let out a huge breath and put her face briefly in her hands as he squealed to a halt. While she couldn't see his face she knew he was grinning. If he ever scared the crap out of her like that again, she'd murder him. Slowly.

Dog ran to the edge of the building and stared across the void. His tail pointed and his ears flickered. Morven laughed as the big dog tilted his head in a distinctly questioning manner.

‘It's alright Dog, he's fine,' she said, as much to reassure herself as Dog.

But Dog was not reassured. He whined and began to pace up and down the edge of the building. Morven called and he came. She knelt down and patted him, ruffling the thick mane of hair at his neck. ‘Chillax Dog, it's all good.'

‘Morven!'

She got up and went to the edge. Zest waved and she waved back.

‘Come on — it's easy! Sick as.'

Morven laughed. ‘Right,' she said. But Zest looked an awful long way away. The memory of her fear was still stuck firmly in the forefront of her mind. That gut-wrenching moment when she had thought Zest was strawberry jam. It was impossible to ignore the horrible prospect that she also may end up only fit for a jam jar. She didn't think she could do it. But it was one thing to think it and another to say it. More than anything in the world she valued Zest's respect. If she chickened out, would he still respect her? Would she respect herself? Life was extremely difficult sometimes.

And then there was the other side. That moment when he was just flying…surfing through the skyline like a goddamn super hero. Try as she did, she could not imagine how it must feel. And she really, really wanted to know. She wanted to be a super hero too. She wanted to know how it felt to be up there treading air. Shit, if Zest could do it, so could she. With the decision made she dropped her skate and flexed her legs. It was all about the timing. She had to do it like she did long jump. See it so strongly in her head that she'd trick her body into believing. Zest had done it. So could she.

Fear and excitement kicked in, sending adrenaline surging through her synapses like jet fuel. Gotta do it. Gotta do it. Gotta do it or die — don't wanna die. Zest can do it. So can I. Focus.
Focus
. She was skating now, slow, deliberate strokes in a big circle. Dog barked and raced beside her. Her hands trembled and she felt sick in the stomach. Part of her brain, detached from her fear, laughed. Holy cow, she
should
be sick in the stomach! This was the cutting edge. She was the real thing — if she didn't screw it up.

‘Go, Morven!' She heard Zest loud and clear, even though she was flying, the wind whistling in her ears. One more circle. And one more.

Her concentration wobbled for a moment. Zest was shouting. She slowed to catch his words…and her blood froze in her veins.

‘No! Dog, no!' she yelled. For Dog had left her side and was running up and down the length of the roof-top, faster and faster. And she knew he was going to jump.

Without thinking, in an agony of fear, she tore at an angle toward him. ‘Dog,
no!
' she screamed.

But it was too late, the huge black dog's haunches flexed and bunched up, and he shot out into the air. She did not hesitate. Just a nano-second behind him, Morven launched herself skyward. As she did, something weird occurred. A strange lightness invaded her body. It was as if gravity had thinned out, like when the sun suddenly burned off the mist on a foggy day. Time seemed to slow slightly, or maybe her brain was doing overtime, but she was able to grab Dog's thick leather collar and lift his dragging body upward. The effort nearly undid her. For a split second she thought she wasn't going to make it — but she forced the fear into a box. With an eye on the centre of the building she refocused. Not a moment too soon her wheels slid home. She was safe. But when she skidded to an inelegant, spine-shattering stop she was filled with horror. Her right hand clutched an empty collar.