The Quickening of Tom Turnpike (The Talltrees Trilogy) (11 page)

“Come
on,” I said.  “Let’s find him.”

seventeen

“Well
these words won’t mean much to you,” said Samson, studying the scrap of paper
closely.  “But it is E’we.”

The
three of us had found him in the Basement, lugging hefty sacks of flour from
the Storeroom to the Pantry located downstairs from the Kitchen.  The Cook
wasn’t around and nor were any of the Masters, and now the four of us were in
the Pantry, sitting on the flour-bags.

I
looked around at the store-cupboards and their heavy padlocks, imagining what
kinds of delicious food might be in them.  My stomach rumbled.

 “But
I can work out what most of it means,” he continued.  “It’s a bit strange, but
the language is very simple, like it’s been written by a five year old or
something.”

 “Go
on,” I said. 

“Well,”
began Samson, putting his finger on the page to trace the words as he read
them, “it seems like the caption to this diagram and I think what this says is:
“And the time when they wake up is the time when the night is darkest and with
Lisa on one side and Mawu on the other...”, and that’s where the page ends.” 

He
sat quietly for a moment, thinking.

I
shrugged.  “So what are Lisa and Mawu?” I asked.  “Are they people or
something?”

“I
think Lisa and Mawu are like gods,” he said.  “They’re Voodoo Loas.  In the
stories, they are the children of the god who created the world.  I think one
is the first man and the other is the first woman, but I can hardly remember.”

Reggie
and Freddie were leaning over Samson’s shoulder, studying the page.

“So
how does the picture fit in?” asked Reggie.

Samson
shrugged and shook his head.

“Do
you think,” continued Reggie pensively, but without conviction, jabbing the
page with a finger, “that the Bokor stands in the middle... between one man and
one woman?”

“But,”
said Freddie, “then what are these arrows for?  Look, this circle on the right
is black; the one in the middle is half black, half white; and the one on the
left is white and much bigger than the other two...”

“Yeah,”
interjected Reggie, “and it’s got no arrows next to it...”

“I
reckon,” added Freddie, looking at Reggie, “I reckon it’s the Solar System or a
simple diagram of the...”

“That’s
it!” exclaimed Samson suddenly.  “I knew there was something else.  Lisa and
Mawu are the gods of the Sun and the Moon.”

“Oh,
so this picture,” I said, still not grasping any implication, “shows the Sun
and the Moon...”

“That’s
right,” said Samson, in the tone of a parent encouraging a child who is
learning to read.

“...And...um...”

“And
the Earth in the middle!” said Freddie excitedly, looking at Reggie and me in
triumph.  “This diagram, look: it’s an eclipse of the Moon!”

“What?”
I asked.

“Didn’t
Wilbraham teach us this in Geography a little while ago?  A lunar eclipse is
when the Sun is on the opposite side of the Earth from the Moon.  So the Earth
throws a shadow across the Moon and the Moon can’t reflect any sunlight.  Look,
the one on the right is the Moon.  It’s black because no light is reaching it. 
The one in the middle is the Earth.  The right hand side of it is black because
that is where it is night.  And this big one is the Sun.”

“So,”
I said, “when it says “they wake up”, it must mean that the zombies come to
life; and “the time when the night is darkest”, I suppose that might mean
midnight?  Now all we need to do is find out if there’s a lunar eclipse any
time soon.  That’s when the zombies are going to come back to life.”

Reggie
rolled his eyes at Freddie and Samson chuckled.  “You know, Tom.  For a clever
fella, you’re pretty slow off the mark, aren’t you?” said Reggie.

I
smirked at them.  Freddie slapped me on the back and said, “Come on, chaps.  We
ought to get to Prayers.  We can check the newspapers on the way.”

***

Empty
chairs were really beginning to show in the Orangery now, like gaps in a
tramp’s grin.  And perhaps I was overly sensitive, but there seemed to be a
disquieting silence over the congregation at the beginning of Prayers.  There
even seemed to be an absence of teachers.  Barrington, Ludendorff and Boateng,
notably, were not present.  Saracen was there though, haunting the back of the
room.

Wilbraham
was droning on about some area of the Basement that should now be considered
out-of-bounds on account of exposed wiring and damp.

On
our way over, Reggie had torn the weather page from the Sunday Times when
nobody was looking.  On the other side of Freddie from me, he was dragging it
out of his pocket whilst pretending to cough in a vain effort to mask the noise
of the newspaper’s rustling.

Wilbraham
was now praising the efforts of the 1
^st
XI during yesterday’s match: 
“...Marvellous to have the clean sweep over Pinewood... ...Particular praise
due to Smith for his six for forty-one, Bartholomew-Crump for his sixty-two not
out...Wonderful season so far...Unblemished record...Only three matches to
go...Strawberries and whipped cream all round...”.  This last notion raised an
unsolicited cheer from a number of boys – something which I thought was
reserved only for Wilbraham’s annual declaration of Shirt-Sleeves Order on
Mayday, weather permitting.  It seemed to please Wilbraham though, confirmation
that strawberries and whipped cream still work.

“...Best
behaviour next weekend, boys,” continued Wilbraham, “as the choir from St.
Katherine’s Ladies’ Academy will be here...”.  This announcement brought about
a further flutter of excitement amongst the Juniors and some boisterous prods
and knowing winks amongst the Seniors.

Freddie
gave me a nudge.  He pushed the newspaper cutting into my hand and gave it a
tap just underneath the weather map, where there was a brief column entitled
“Night Sky”:

“
Tomorrow
night a meteorological marvel will be visible over Britain, when a total lunar
eclipse will turn the Moon a deep blood red.  It is expected that the most
spectacular views will be over southwest and central England.

The
period of total eclipse will be between 9.36pm and 11.10pm. The eclipse will
reach its height at 10.23pm.  The full duration of the eclipse, from the Moon’s
entry into the outer part of the Earth’s shadow to its exit, will be from
8.38pm until 00.08am on Wednesday.
”

Jesus! 
This gave us just one and a half days to come up with a plan to stop Colonel
Barrington.  I folded the paper cutting and put it into my back pocket with the
page that had fallen from Barrington’s book.

eighteen

“Okay,”
I said.  “So what we need is
hard evidence
.  Any ideas?”  We were on our
way from the Orangery to Lunch (toad-in-the-hole today, so hopefully my bit
would actually have a sausage in it).

“How
about the Science Labs?” said Reggie.  “There must be evidence there.  Bottles
of zombie-poison and stuff.”

“Yeah,”
I said.  “You never know.  But what do we do if we do find any evidence?  I
mean who is going to believe us?  A bottle of fluid from the Labs could be
anything. 
I
find it hard enough to believe in zombies, so I haven’t a
clue how we’re going to convince a teacher too.”

Freddie
and Reggie shrugged or shook their heads.

“Well
we’ve got to try, I suppose.  So who wants to do it?”

“It’ll
have to be you boys,” said Reggie, nodding towards me and Freddie.  “I’m in
Detention all bloomin’ afternoon!  But I heard that Barrington’s supervising, so
that means the Physics and Chemistry Lab will be safe.”

***

“Have
you done this before?” I whispered.

Freddie
had wedged two bent paper-clips into the lock on the door to Colonel Barrington’s
Physics and Chemistry Lab and he was trying to force the screwdriver attachment
on his Swiss Army knife in after them.  At first, he had affected the calm and
precise air of an experienced safe-cracker.  But by now his frustration had
taken over and he was rattling the paper-clips for all he was worth. 

“This
is
seriously
out-of-bounds!” I added.

“You’re
not helping!” he hissed and removed his tools, putting his hands on his hips
and tutting like a plumber with bad news.

 The
Physics and Chemistry Lab was in the East wing of the school building and, like
the Orangery in the opposite wing, had recently been rebuilt.  As a result, it
was equipped with brand new doors with brand new locks.  Far less easy to pick
than the clunking old ones in the middle of the building.  One benefit of these
doors though was that they had a pane of reinforced glass, so that I could peer
through and see that there was nobody in the Lab.  There was also nothing out
on the work surfaces – no bubbling red fluids or body parts in tanks.

“To
be honest, Tom, I’ve no idea,” admitted Freddie, “and this screwdriver is way
too thick.”

“Let
me have a go,” I said, grabbing the knife and the paper-clips.  “I saw this
thing in the Knockout Annual about how locks work.  Apparently the only reason
why you can’t turn a lock with just any old piece of metal is that there are
pins inside it in certain places that stop it from turning.  What a key does is
it pushes the pins up and stops them getting in the way of the lock when you
turn it.  So all I need to do,” I said, nudging the bent paper-clips around
inside the keyhole, “is find the pins, push them out of the way with these
paper-clips and... Hey, could you get the tweezers out of the penknife for me?”

Freddie
passed me the tweezers.  I pressed them together and pushed them into the
keyhole.  They just about managed to squeeze in without disturbing the
paper-clips, which I held firmly in place.

Amazingly,
unbelievably, my makeshift key turned smoothly and the lock clicked open.  I
looked up at Freddie smugly.

“You’re
so
annoying!”

We
closed the door behind us and Freddie strutted straight towards Barrington’s
desk.  The Lab seemed so much larger when it was empty.  I was used to seeing
it in lessons when it was cluttered with thermometers, burettes, pipettes,
tripods, beakers, gauzes, clamps and bungs.  But now the work surfaces were so
clean and smooth that you would never guess that it was just there that Freddie
had recently ruined a jumper with sulphuric acid, or that over there Peregrine
Trout had last year burnt his left eyebrow off with a blue bunsen flame.

“Come
on, Tom!  We’ll get expelled if we’re caught.  We need to be as quick as
possible.  Have a look through those drawers,” he said, pointing to the ones at
the other end of Barrington’s desk from where he was kneeling, rifling through
Barrington’s notes.

The
top two drawers on my side of the desk contained nothing of interest – just chalk
boxes, rulers, set squares and so on.  But the bottom drawer contained a very
strange looking item.  At first glance it looked like a misshapen lump of wood,
like a knot on a monkey-puzzle tree.  But, on closer inspection, it seemed to
be crafted roughly in the shape of a person.

“Look
at this,” I said, grabbing it.  “It looks sort of like a woman with long hair.”

Freddie
looked at it and shrugged.

“Hang
on,” I said, realising that there was something familiar about it.  “Boateng
showed us a picture of these sorts of things.  I think he said they were called
Fetishes, remember?  He said they were like Voodoo religious dolls and
something about them representing gods or dead people or something.  And the
encyclopædia said that they are used for trapping the souls of people who are
turned into zombies.”

I
peered at its face, wondering if it was looking at me.  It was so roughly
shaped that it was difficult to see where the eyes were, but that made it all
the more mesmerising and the longer I stared at it, the longer I wanted to
stare at it.

“Well,”
said Freddie, “I’m not really sure it’ll be good evidence though.  Think you’d
better put it back.  It’s giving me the heebie-jeebies just looking at it.”

Just
as I was closing the drawer, I heard the faint clicking of footsteps.  Freddie
looked at me, startled.

“Quick! 
Underneath the desk,” I whispered.

We
crouched there as the footsteps became louder and louder.  I was searching my
memory frantically to satisfy myself that we had left no clues that anyone was
in here:  We hadn’t turned on the lights, we hadn’t left the door ajar, and, I
realised as I became acutely aware that they were digging into my thigh from
inside my pocket, we can’t have dropped the paper-clips.  In fact, the only way
of finding out that someone was in here would be to find out that the door was
unlocked, and that would mean trying to come in.  Surely the only person who
would do that was Barrington.  And he was supervising Detention. 

Just
keep walking, I willed the footsteps as they became louder and louder.  Please
just keep walking.

Just
as the footsteps seemed like they could get no louder, they hesitated by the
door and then, finally, clicked on by in the direction of the Modern Languages
rooms.  Freddie sighed with relief, but I couldn’t bring myself to emerge from
beneath the desk just yet.  It was too soon to take the risk.  What if my ears
were deceiving me?

“Hey,
what’s that?”  I whispered.  Freddie was still clutching a sheaf of papers from
Barrington’s desk drawer and amongst them was a leather-bound book.  Freddie
pulled it out and opened it onto the page where, in Barrington’s unmistakeable
blue-black scrawl, it said “Research Log”.

Freddie
began to flick through slowly.  Most of the pages at the beginning contained
diagrams and text which had been angrily crossed out.  But then it began to get
interesting.

“
Quickening
minus Ten:

Further
study of Witchdoctor’s text has revealed the following stages in the process of
Z-production:-

1.
   
 After
being given Z-poison, subjects enter death-like state.  Subjects best preserved
in damp, cool, but insulated conditions.  Soil ideal;

2.
   
Subjects
remain in death-like state until beginning of lunar eclipse.  For best
preservation, shortest time possible is required between administration of
Z-poison and stage 3 as decomposition continues;

3.
   
On
night of lunar eclipse, full effects of Z-poison begin to take hold as subjects
rise from dead.  Bokor at this point enters violent trance in order to perform
Invocation of Loa;

4.
   
Loa
possesses Bokor and controls risen subjects, using subjects’ eyes and ears as
his own and controlling subjects’ movements.  Crucial Bokor is not disturbed
during possession by Loa and before Z-poison has taken hold as may result in
immediate and permanent death of subjects;

5.
   
Z-poison
takes full effect by end of eclipse.  By this time, subjects are beyond point
of no return – to use language suggested by text, “Quickened”, and subjects’
souls, according to text, are trapped in Fetishes [scientific basis unclear –
perhaps hypnosis results in some kind of psychological dependence];

6.
   
Subjects
reaching Quickening may from then be raised as Zs at any time by Bokor. 
Quickened subjects have no blood-circulation and little independent thought. 
Severe damage to the brain is only way of neutralising Quickened subjects. 
Bokor does not control every aspect of subjects’ behaviour, but dictates what
subjects are to achieve.  Bokor communicates orders merely by will.  Subjects
therefore effectively have a psychic link with Bokor [again, scientific basis
requires further research];

7.
   
Eventual
death of Bokor leaves subjects in permanent state of death unless new Bokor is
chosen by means of a ritual to which text refers as “the Summoning”.
”

“I
can hardly believe what I’m seeing,” whispered Freddie.  “So unless we do
something by the end of the eclipse on Tuesday morning, Milo and the others
will be zombies forever.  I just can’t understand why Barrington would agree to
do this!”

I
was speechless at the horror of what was going to happen.

Freddie
shook his head and flicked to the next entry.

“
Quickening
minus Eight:

Finally,
a breakthrough.  Traditional understanding of operation of Nitrous Oxide
scientifically flawed.  Though Nitrous Oxide well-known for sedative effects,
those effects are, in fact, opposite to those required to bring about Z-like
symptoms.  Research required.

Z-poison
should therefore require no more than mixture of poisons extracted from puffer
fish livers and deadly nightshade berries.  Administration of Z-poison may thus
be a one-stage procedure.
”

“Quickening
minus Eight,” I said.  “Do you reckon that means that he wrote this entry eight
days before the Quickening?”

“Yeah,”
said Freddie.  “So, if the Quickening is Tuesday morning, that would mean...
last Monday.  So that’s not very long after boys started disappearing.”

“This
is odd.  Look!”

The
entry continued, but in a hurried scrawl:  “
JDS suspects.  Absolute
discretion required.
”

“Those
are Doctor Saracen’s initials,” whispered Freddie.  “But Saracen’s a Party
member, so why would Barrington worry about that?”

“Who
knows?  And why would he write this down?”

I
looked at my watch.  “Oh no, Fred!  Look:  Detention ended ten minutes ago! 
Barrington could be back any moment!”

“We’ve
got to get out of here!” he said in a panic.  We hurriedly scrambled out from
beneath the desk and Freddie stuffed the sheaf of papers back into the drawer.

“Shouldn’t
we keep this as evidence though?” he said.  “That is why we came here, after
all.”

“Yeah,
keep hold of the logbook,” I said.  “I can’t see what it proves though.  I mean
he doesn’t even use the word “zombie” once in what we read.”

“Come
on.  Let’s get going.  I’ll hang onto it and we can look at the rest of it
later on to see if there’s anything we could show to a teacher.”

We
hurried over to the door.  I looked out through the glass to check that nobody
was coming.

We
crept out and clicked the door shut behind us.  Then, just as we were walking
confidently away and breathing sighs of relief, I felt a hand grab me firmly by
the back of my collar.